


A Poem for Farewells

by fineinthemorning



Series: Poems [3]
Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Cannibalism, Character Death, Crossdressing, Drug Abuse, Fetish, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Manga Spoilers, Mental Health Issues, Non-Chronological, Original Character(s), Psychosis, Self-Harm, Tokyo Ghoul: re, Unrequited Love, blame it on the alcohol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2018-03-22 00:33:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 28
Words: 140,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3708639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fineinthemorning/pseuds/fineinthemorning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>THIS IS A SEQUEL to "A Poem for Transition". - Please read "Transition" first. </p><p>With his memories back, Kaneki has decided to live his life as Haise Sasaki, mentor to the Quinx squad, but is the CCG really where he'll find his happiness? With every step forward, he falls several steps back. Out of desperation, he ingests a poison that will never leave his system. Are his sacrifices worth it? Will he be able to protect the ones he loves, or will he give in to his own inner demons? Does the road through hell lead to peace, or is more tragedy awaiting him on the other side?</p><p>Chapter 28 - Behind</p><p>Want to read it in chronological order? 13, 1, 3, 4, 2, 7, 5, 9, 8, 10, 11, 12, 14, 16, 15, 18, 17, 20, 19, 21, 22, 23, 6(omake), 26, 25, 24, 27</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Reunion of Sorts- Dec 10

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to dedicate this story to everyone who supported me by leaving comments, feedback, and kudos for "A Poem for Transition". Thank you!

Kaneki checked his watch. He always wore it with the face under his wrist. It was more practical, really, and he never enjoyed wearing any unnecessary accessories, so at least it didn’t appear flashy, either. It was time. He threw his standard white CCG trench off and tossed his white gloves aside. Why the CCG uniforms were all white, one could wonder. It didn’t make any sense for how messy their job was. The cool night air was refreshing even if their location on top of the building made it a little humid. Knowing he’d be using his kagune, he was wearing a black sweater with an open back underneath. It wasn’t his favorite, but all the better; it still covered his arms, at least. He released his rinkaku in four red scaled tentacles that branched around him like spider legs. He hadn’t used his rinkaku since his return from the ghoul detention center . . . since he’d been forced to eat god knows how many kakuhou. Now wasn’t the time to be nervous, however.

With his white hair whipping around his face, revealing his kakugan and cold gray eye, Kaneki smirked at the others. “You four have no hope of stopping me, you know?” He cracked a finger, then a second.

“We’ll just see about that!” Shirazu was the first to make his move, signaling to the others that now was the time when he released his ukaku and immediately began firing in Kaneki’s direction. Kaneki blocked the assault easily with his rinkaku, but just as he pulled his kagune away, Urie was attacking him from the front with his quinque, Tsunagi.

Urie was as expressionless as always, but Haise could see the excitement in his eyes, a glimmer of pleasure for finally being able to attack his superior with everything he had. For as much as he acted aloof in every situation, he was actually fairly easy to read over time, though incredibly difficult for Kaneki to understand.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you, Urie?” Every swing of Tsunagi was stopped by a rinkaku tentacle. Kaneki realized that his kagune was easier to manipulate somehow. Though already emerged from his body, he found if very simple to change the shape without much concentration at all. As easy as lifting a finger, he could imagine the length, the shape, the concentration or purpose, and the cells would move until they’d manipulate his kagune to actualize his desire. It was strange, but for now a welcome change especially because now the muscle needed to be concentrated, thin, and sharp to prevent itself from being cut by the quinque metal blade.

Urie huffed in response and released his koukaku kagune just after swinging Tsunagi forward. It was like a second blade had erupted from his back that could reach even further to cut through the half-ghoul. Unfortunately for Urie, Sasaki had seen this all before, and had been ready to intercept such a move. It was predictable, even.

He smiled as he jumped back to dodge, landing easily on his feet. Sasaki suddenly hated that he was wearing shoes but ignored it. Urie stood again, unfazed by his miss, or at least not showing whether it had pissed him off or not. Neither made a move for a moment until Kaneki smiled a little wider; it was a challenge, and Urie ran after him to meet it.

“Tooru!” Sasaki could hear his blonde subordinate yell, but he was too distracted by Urie’s steady kicks and whips of kagune and Tsunagi to see.

“Yes!” Tooru withdrew his quinque while running towards Shirazu. Their eyes met. They’d only practiced this a few times, because the size of the training room at the chateau didn’t really allow for it, but they figured now, in a battle with their mentor, they needed to try it.

Tooru had been training with Shirazu for two months, but for the month that their mentor had been locked up in Cochlea, he had continued his training with Suzuya. He was able to pick up on a few things. Rather, he understood how the movements and attacks were executed, and because they had similar body types, it was something he could envision, but it took months of practice before he was able to actually complete any of the attacks successfully. Mutsuki knew he owed a lot to both Suzuya and Ginshi. Suzuya had faith in him and trusted that his time wasn’t wasted in teaching him what he knew. Ginshi also had faith in him, and showed it by encouraging him and never giving up on him even when there was so little he could do from the beginning. Mutsuki was sure he’d become stronger in these last three months than in the prior year he had spent as an investigator with the Quinx Squad. He finally felt like he was getting somewhere.

The smaller male ran up the blonde’s back and, as Ginshi solidified his ukaku, Tooru kept running until he was running along the solidified ukaku itself. As soon as he reached the end, he jumped over Urie and Haise. In midair, just as he was over the others, he flipped, withdrew several quinque knives and threw them in Kaneki’s direction. He landed, knees bent, only to see that every knife had been blocked by the spider like rinkaku. Did Sasaki have eyes in the back of his head? He didn’t have time to reflect on any successes or failures, because a rinkaku tentacle was headed right for him.

It was then that an arrow flew through the air just past his ear to hit the tentacle straight through only to get caught on the fletching. Mutsuki turned around to see an unapologetic Saiko, “Saiko-chan, that was close . . .”

She smiled lazily, “Ah, but it stopped him, didn’t it?” Mutsuki stood and looked for an opening in the fight. He supposed Saiko had a point.

Sasaki jumped back to dodge a kick from Urie and used a tentacle to throw the boy to the left hard, finally getting a hit in that would send him flying. Urie was improving, at least. It had taken at least two or three minutes for Sasaki to find an opening. His squad still had him surrounded. He hadn’t trained with all four of them coming at him at once in quite a long time. It was time to see what their training over the past two months had actually improved.

Urie moved to his feet quickly. “You’re not using your quinque, Sasaki.” Urie was mentioning it only because he hated being treated like he wasn’t on the same level as another- like he needed to be fought with handicaps.

Sasaki looked stoically back at him, “I don’t need it.”

Urie ran at him again, this time with his eyes burning not in excitement but in determination and focus. He was determined to show his superior that he was ready to take back his title as Squad Leader.

Instead of waiting for the violet haired Quinx, Sasaki ran at him, his kagune reaching forward towards the other. Urie was ready to block the attack. What he wasn’t ready for was the tentacles shooting past him to reach for Shirazu or for his mentor to come at him with his bare hands.

Shirazu had since drawn his quinque and was able to block one. On of the four tentacles was stopped by knives. Shirazu made a mental note to praise Tooru for saving his ass. Another was stopped by one of Saiko’s arrows. That meant that one went through to cut along Ginshi’s leg, tearing a chunk of his right calf out of his leg like a knife carving ham for dinner.

“Shit!” the blonde nearly yelped from the injury because he was still not used to feeling pain no matter how easily he knew it would heal. IT threw him off balance.

Tooru was beside him suddenly and, after ducking beneath his right arm to support Shirazu, he jumped back a few times with his comrade to pull him away from the kagune should Sasaki try to reach further for more of Shirazu’s flesh. However, as Sasaki was still fighting using only his bare hands against Urie, he was still managing to focus his kagune to reach further and further forward after Shirazu and Tooru.

“Shit. Shit. ” Shirazu let go of Tooru and attempted to dodge himself. “Go right!” Shirazu called as he ran left.

The rinkaku kept reaching forward with Sasaki unable to focus on that which he could not see at the moment. Mustuki ran around the right to back up Urie, and Shirazu ran left to meet with Saiko.

“Saiko, get in there!” he demanded, trusting that she’d be the best in working with Urie.

“But, Ginchi-I-” she had never actually fought her Maman seriously.

“Show us what the hell you’ve been doing these past two months!”

Saiko understood. If anyone could assist Urie in his assault against Sasaki it would be her. She was the one who now understood his fighting style and his silent demands better than anyone else. Still, this would be the first time they actually worked together to fight a single opponent. It was worth a shot. With Sasaki’s rinkaku outstretched like that, she knew she at least had a minute before Urie would need backup. Perfect.

She rubbed her bow between her hands until the quinque was soft. Her quinque, Bokusastu, was just as much an experiment as the Quinx themselves. It was made by putting less steel in with the kagune with the intention to make it malleable. At the present moment, she was forming it back into it’s original shape- a club. The club was lightweight and easy to swing, but since the original kagune had been spiked, when she slammed it into the concrete of the building below, the weapon seemed to reverberate as it formed little long thin spikes all around it save for the handle so she could grip it. Living up to its name, her quinque could both be used to beat someone or slice someone to death. And with it being malleable, it was certainly her favorite possession considering all of the weapons she had to choose from through her collection of manga, anime, and video games. Satisfied with the weapon she best knew how to wield, she ran forward to meet her mentor, rinkaku spiraling out of her back like vines as she ran.

Sasaki paid no mind to Saiko as she approached them, but when he felt the spiked club hit his kagune, he already regretted his decision. It cut through. Yes, she had most certainly improved.

“Ugh!” Sasaki pulled his remaining kagune back as quickly as he could and attempted to retreat from the oncoming assault only to feel himself cornered with Mutsuki on his right and Shirazu on his left. Without thinking, two new rinakaku tentacles sprouted from his back as if responding to his unspoken panic, one reaching for Mustiki and the other, severing his own other four thinner rinkaku. It hurt, but the tentacles were quickly replenished with RC Cells and he recovered quickly. Urie and Saiko had stopped, watching in horror and interest respectfully. Kaneki now had four thin rinkaku and two additional thick kagune sprouting from his back.

Mutsuki was able to dodge the attack of the single tentacle, but as it continued to follow him on Sasaki’s right, he realized he’d need to turn and fight it. He stopped and faced it and waited for it to hit him.

Watching the whole thing, Shirazu crossed his fingers.

Saiko yelled, “Mucchan-run!” Just as the words left her lips, Mutsuki jumped suddenly, dodging Sasaki’s rinkaku and landing just right to begin running up the ever moving limb.

Saiko and Urie stared, shocked, as Mutsuki got closer to Sasaki by the second, jumping again just as Sasaki realized what was actually happening. Again, in midair, Mutsuki rained down knives on the half-ghoul. Sasaki was able to stop all but one this time, and it hit and sank deeply into his left shoulder.

He seemed unaffected as he reached another tentacle to grab at Tooru, but it was stopped by Shirazu’s ukaku. Shirazu continued to attack using his ukaku until he knew that Mutsuki had landed safely.

Counting the loss and moving on after pulling the knife from his shoulder and tossing it aside, Sasaki turned his attention to the two directly in front of him.

Urie looked down briefly at Saiko with his eyes alone. She understood from the minute gesture alone. They began running, together, straight for Kaneki, their pacing matched.

“Really?” Kaneki looked disappointed. Surely they’d learned.

And there it was-

Saiko threw her Bokusatsu straight for her mentor’s face. Without thinking, Kaneki reached to catch it before it hit him with a tentacle from either side. Just as he did, Saiko ran to the left, and Urie to the right. Saiko’s rinkaku outstretched to reach all the way to the right side of Kaneki, and, as she ran to his left, she attempted to block his limbs from reaching for Urie. It was enough to catch Sasaki off guard. Urie was able to cut another thin rinkaku with his quinque and stab his kagune like a blade into Kaneki’s left shoulder.

“Damn it!” Sasaki jumped suddenly out of the way of Saiko’s rinkaku and, taking Urie’s koukaku with him, he reached four rinkaku down towards his subordinate and threw Saiko’s quinque at the violet haired Quinx for good measure. As he did, he grabbed Saiko suddenly with one of the larger tentacles, picked her up, and threw her forward hard, sending her flying through a dark window in the next building, glass falling like crystal as she hit.

Urie couldn’t block all four rinkaku, so he withdrew his koukaku and swung Tsunagi, hoping to at least minimize the damage. He was lucky. Even the quinque club had missed him. Only one kagune hit and it was in his left side. He hit the ground hard.

Caught up in their battle, no one saw it coming. There was only a flash of a living blade and blood as kagune were cut straight through only to fall and roll several meters away from the momentum due to the speed at which they’d been cut. Urie hopped back in time to miss the blade, but Sasaki’s rinkaku had been cut straight through.

Forgetting the mission a split second, Sasaki looked up in anger to put an end to whoever had interrupted his fight with the Qs. What he didn’t expect to see was the Samurai.

The first thing Sasaki noticed was not his strange attire but his height. He was tall, broad shouldered, but not intimidating. At least, his size was not even half that of Yamori. What made him intimidating was his black iron helmet, a flesh colored Noh style mask that was twisted in a permanent expression of bitter anger and hatred, and finally, his long bladed black naginata that had to be at least 250 centimeters tall. Aside from his headgear, he was also wearing a charcoal gray hakama tied with an uwa-obi beneath a black haori robe. It was strange, like a comic book villain had just appeared in real life. He stood between them slowly but did not speak. In the time it took Sasaki to regain his understanding of the situation, the kagune that had cut his rinkaku had receded. Still, it must have come from-

“So, this is what has become of you, Eyepatch?”

Sasaki took another step back and eyed the Q’s to do the same. Right, this was the plan all along.

They’d lured out the samurai.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me for taking some creative liberties with Saiko's quinque. I really wanted her to have a Meguka bow, but the name of her quinque and her personality really seem to work well with a spiked club. I figured I could have it both ways and more. Pffttt~ /forgive me


	2. What It Means to Win-Dec 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter is weird. It just sort of happened. It takes place just over an hour after the first chapter.

It was all over. Those that were not escorting the Samurai to the Ghoul Detention Center were instructed to report back to the 20th Ward Headquarters for debriefing. Washuu had requested all remain at headquarters for a final debriefing with everyone present. It meant that all involved would have tomorrow, or rather, the rest of the day, off. It also meant that reports would be due the following day. It was actually in everyone’s favor if the debriefing were done immediately.

So, there was a waiting period. While two teams were escorting Samurai to the Ghoul Detention Center, the others were changing from their battle gear. Only Sasaki’s Squad had engaged in battle, so it was only his squad that reported for medical treatment and showers. Having few battle wounds, Mutsuki and Saiko had escaped to the showers and finished quickly. They were already waiting in the lounge outside the meeting room in their typical uniforms when Urie and Shirazu checked in with them.

“Really, Tooru, your healing abilities are amazing!” Shirazu gave a toothy grin as he nudged his teammate in the shoulder.

“Shirazu,” it was a warning from Urie. Saiko was currently leaning against Tooru with her DS in her hands and her head bobbing down, and then suddenly back up again. She was falling asleep.

Tooru smiled and Shirazu smirked. Urie cared?

No one said a word for a moment, and then Saiko’s eyes opened lazily, “Auu, Urikuri, it’s okay. Ginchi’s voice is like a sweeeet lullaby.”

“Brat,” Ginshi smiled.

“You’re so full of shit.” Urie sighed.

Tooru’s smile widened slightly. He found the whole exchange rather relieving. They were all okay.

Each of them, in their own way, was expressing their relief.

“Now, go shower before I barf from the stench of Ginchi’s socks. Those things are nuclear, I swear. They’re the sole reason I don’t do laundry.”

“Was that a pun just now, Saiko-chan?” Tooru ‘s voice was gentle even when he teased.

“Laundry? You don’t do any chores at all!” Ginshi feigned annoyance while stating a truth obvious to everyone.

“Take it up with management,” Saiko shrugged and tapped a few buttons.

“What? Sasan shouldn’t have to tell you to-“

“Let’s go.” Kuki pulled his Squad Leader along. They needed to shower before the others got back from the Ghoul Detention Center.

Saiko made a face at the blonde that consisted of a tongue sticking out and an exaggerated wink, and, as he was leaving, he turned around to make one back at her.

They were all alive. They’d not only survived this mission; they had, as a team, completed the mission objective that had been assigned to five teams. The five of them had worked together as a single force and brought down a dangerous SS rated ghoul. It was the best victory they’d had so far in the year and some odd months they’d been together. Shirazu was beaming with pride.

<><><><><><><><><><> 

In the locker room, Shriazu picked at one of his bandages from one of the wounds he’d suffered from the battle to peek underneath.

“Stop that. The doctor said not to mess with them until tomorrow.”

Ginshi smiled. It was always rather noticeable when Urie showed concern for others, even if it wasn’t in ways most people understood, “Yeah, but, it’s a shame isn’t it?”

“What?” the violet haired Quinx removed his undershirt, folded it, and then placed it into his locker on top of his folded jacket and blazer. He got to work on his belt.

“Well, because of the RC cells healing our wounds, we’ll never have awesome battle scars.” Shirazu mirrored the action of pulling off his own shirt, but simply tossed it into the locker into the heap of what was his previously discarded clothes.

“So?” Urie was only able to manage this conversation due to the adrenaline still pumping in his veins though the battle had been over for just over an hour already.

“Soooo, I’ll never be able to tell awesome stories to my kids, you know? Like, _‘I got this one back in ’16 when I fought the Samurai. He was one nasty son-of-a-bitch.’_ Something like that.” Ginshi knew he was being ridiculous, but he didn’t care. He was on a high, and no amount of Urie’s typical attitude would bring him down.

Urie rolled his eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

“What? What’s wrong with that? I just like the idea is all.” His own father had shown him scars and told him stories though that had only been when he was drunk, so there was no telling if any of them were actually true. Still he sometimes missed hearing his voice. Shirazu wouldn’t dwell on it often, but he did want to share at least the idea of what that relationship was supposed to be with his own son someday. Someday far from now, but still-

“I don’t even want to think about you having the responsibility of taking care of children,” Urie’s lack of belief in Shirazu’s ability was unmasked, as always.

Shirazu wouldn’t let it get to him. He knew himself well enough. “What the hell, man. I’d make a great father.”

“Why are we even having this conversation?” Urie wrapped a towel around his naked waist before going into the shower area.

“Hey, wait up!” Shirazu quickly shut his locker, tied his towel, and went after his fellow team member.

“You gotta love that the CCG let no expense be spared. Damn. We have our own little sento over here. It’s awesome.” Shirazu sat down in one of the stalls and turned on the faucet above the deep sink to fill a bucket with water.

Urie found something to complain about, “But we have to use these damn buckets. They could have at least used a detachable faucet head or something. With all the technology we have, you’d think they’d not have such old-fashioned baths.”

“Relax, try to enjoy it.”

The two went to work shampooing their hair and washing their skin.

Shirazu finally broke the silence, leaning over to peek into Urie’s stall, “Seriously, though, do my feet smell that bad?”

Kuki looked back at him with a scowl, “ . . . No.”

Shirazu returned to his own stall, filled his own bucket once more, and dumped it over his head, looking at himself in the mirror that was provided in each stall to make sure his hair was free of soap. Yeah, he had damn good skin for his age. A lot better than Saiko’s. She ate too many damn snacks. He needed to get on her about that. Even if she was working out more and drinking more water and such, she still ate crap.

The blonde stood up and stretched, “It’s no onsen, but the temperature is good. We still have time. Wanna get into the bath?”

“It’s small.”

It wasn’t. At least seven people could fit comfortably. “Hey, the fact that it exists at all is fucking killer.”

“Your vocabulary continues to astound me.”

“You should find a job where you could make money off of being an asshole. You’d make a fortune.” Shirazu sighed. He actually didn’t want to go in alone. He wouldn’t admit it, but he really didn’t like doing anything alone, “There’s only two of us.”

Kuki walked past him and dropped the towel outside the bath before stepping in. That was his answer. Ginshi followed after and got in behind him, “Ahhhhh, it feels great. I never shower at Central Office, because it’s always fucking crowded.”

“It is,” Kuki agreed. Of course, there was no one here at the 20th Ward branch at this hour because it was nearly three in the morning. The earliest anyone came in was five or five-thirty.

“So, Tooru’s really improved, hasn’t he?”

Urie turned his back to the bathing area and looked out the window. It was black; nothing could be seen. “He has,” he admitted. “Saiko, too,” he added.

Shirazu smiled at Urie’s back and moved through the bath to join him to look out the window. It was so rare for Urie to compliment anyone. He was improving, too, wasn’t he? “Seriously. It’s crazy how hard she works now. She doesn’t even seem like the same person- but-”

“But she is,” Kuki finished for him.

“Man, I can’t see shit out of this window,” Shirazu yawned, and then noticed out of the corner of his eye, a door. “Hey, there’s a sauna, too!”

“I’m not going.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll be right back.” Shirazu got out of the bath and made his way inside the other room, the door closing behind him. Just as he did, Urie could hear footsteps behind him. When he turned around in the water, he only saw the top of someone’s head in one of the shower stalls. White hair.

Haise had gone to the last stall against the wall. He really didn’t want to be seen by them, did he? Why was he acting distant now? He was immature, or so Urie had decided.

Haise supposedly had the best healing abilities out of all of them, but he had taken the longest with the doctor? On the last mission he had even broken his arm and healed it within minutes. Had his wounds been that bad from this mission? Urie wanted to know. He got out of the bath and wrapped his towel back around his waist. Shirazu was forgotten.

He would exit, and, on his way out, he’d look. Urie moved his way to the exit. He shouldn’t have looked, but he did, and what he saw was shocking. It wasn’t the realization of just how thin his superior was. Underneath those many layers of clothing, Sasaki was clearly not broad shouldered. He wasn’t tall. He clearly wasn’t large in stature. He was muscular, but even with so many muscles and so little body fat, he still looked to be no bigger than Urie himself. No, that wasn’t what he noticed immediately. What he noticed immediately was that he looked like a patchwork quilt. His limbs were two different shades of skin. One shade, while still white, was tanned and the other was pale- very pale, and looked incredibly smooth- like new skin.

The violet haired boy made for Sasaki immediately all but running to the stall Sasaki was sitting in. Grabbing his left shoulder that was still blossoming blue and purple from earlier wounds, he turned him around suddenly.

“Urie- what-?” Kaneki was too confused to even produce a direct question. He had heard the Quinx coming, but he had no idea why the boy was aggressive, and he couldn’t think of anything he’d done to piss him off.

Urie, slammed him against the tile of the stall, pushing him off of the stool. The faucet from the sink was now overflowing and spilling onto the tiled floor below. The stream of water was falling in their direction now pooling around Sasaki and soaking the towel around his waist,” What the hell is this?!” Urie pressed Kaneki’s body into the wall by putting his forearm against the other’s collarbone and then moved his hand from the other’s shoulder to his left wrist, picking up Kaneki’s own wrist and holding it in front of his eyes. The Quinx was angry, annoyed, clearly upset, but he couldn’t articulate why.

What the hell kind of scar was this? He’d never seen it before. It had never been present in their training in the past. What the hell was going on?

Kaneki stared, trying to process and understand Urie’s actions. He could tell he was upset over not being told about the scars or where they’d come from, but again, for the thousandth time, Kaneki couldn’t piece together why Urie would even give a damn about something like that. He’d never understand this boy.

“Let go.” His voice was cold and his eyes narrowed.

“What the hell happened?!” Kuki dropped the wrist suddenly and punched his superior square in the left cheek. Sasaki hadn’t been expecting it at all, and hadn’t been able to dodge what with the awkward position he was sitting in with Urie leering over him. The punch wasn’t actually that painful at all, but the act was enough to cause Sasaki to stare back with a threat in his eyes.

The threat was never executed. In seconds, a large hand grabbed Urie, pulled him off Sasaki into a standing position, and then threw him down into the tiled floor of the showers below. Kaneki straightened and stood up, recovering quickly.

Ginshi stood between them now, and as Urie was moving to get up, he kicked him hard enough in the chest to knock the air out of him, turned him around, and pinned him to the floor with his foot.

“You’re a fucking idiot!”

Kuki couldn’t respond. He was in pain from his wound.

“Shirazu-” Kaneki took a step forward.

“No, Sasan, stop, I’m sick of you letting him get away with this shit.”

The half-ghoul went silent. Part of him was curious about whatever answer Shirazu, the squad leader who had grown so much in so little time, had for his unruly subordinate.

“Listen to me, Kuki. This man has gone through hell and back. He has constantly made excuses for you. He has saved your ass a countless number of times. He has trusted you even after you’ve proved to all of us that you’re a selfish sack of shit. He deserves nothing from you but respect.”

Urie moved to his side. Ginshi wasn’t actually pinning him down. He hardly had any weight on him at all. Leaning with his weight on his right elbow, he looked up at the blonde in annoyance, “ . . . Are you . . . done?”

“I swear to God- I’m gonna fucking-”

Kuki spoke. “Look at . . . his arms.”

Without thinking, Shirazu turned around to look at Sasaki.

“His legs.” Kuki added.

Shirazu, being much taller than any of the members of the Quinx Squad, including Sasaki, looked down at his mentor and immediately noticed the other scars. He’d seen the one on his wrist. With there being no clothing to conceal Sasaki’s secret though, he could now see that the entirety of Sasaki’s right arm was another shade of skin, and his left foot was just as pale as well as half of his right leg.

Was it what it looked like?

Really?

No one said anything.

Kaneki was too tired to say a word. Mentally exhausted after what had happened over the entirety of the evening, he no longer had the strength to come to his own defense. Yes, they were seeing his scars, but it wasn’t like they were seeing all of them. They couldn't look into his past. They'd never know how many times he'd lost the digits of his hands and feet. They couldn't look inside his mind and see the divisions and characters that taunted him daily. Choosing between two lives and both being ended. Watching others die when he could do nothing. Being unable to protect protect protect. It did not matter. They could only see these, and what he'd been so graciously gifted with a mere two weeks ago was nothing compared to the near three years of mental scars he'd obtained since his seemingly harmless bookstore date. Just why the hell did it piss Urie off, anyway?

Without looking at either of them, Sasaki stood up, picked up the stool to right it on the tile again, sat down, turned off the faucet, and went back to bathing.

“You’re a coward.” Urie's words bled into the air and spread throughout the room, reaching Sasaki's ears and affirming what he already felt.

“Kuki,” the blonde’s voice was deep and threatening. Urie had no idea the extent at which Sasan was currently suffering. If this went on, Sasaki would need to hold him back from murdering the brat.

“Who did that to you?” Urie pressed on.

“Stop it! Let it go, man!” Shirazu was furious. What would it take for Kuki to get a clue?

Urie stood up again, still angry without quite understanding why. Shirazu stood between him and Sasaki, looking down at Kuki in anger and disappointment. He wouldn’t budge even if the scars also upset him.

Sasaki dumped water over his head, set the bucket in his lap, and looked up at Urie.

“Not all battles are ended with fighting, Urie.”

When Urie relaxed, Shirazu followed suit. The two boys stopped struggling, and Shirazu relaxed enough to turn to look at their mentor. Sasaki looked . . . lost.

“The hardest battles I’ve ever fought go on up here,” Kaneki pointed to his head, a black fingernail sinking in the layers of wet white hair.

“They did that to you . . . in Cochlea?” Shirazu hardly whispered, but he did this time, too scared of the answer to ask the question with confidence.

Kaneki turned so that he was facing the oval mirror in front of him. He realized then that his kakugan was out. When his eye had turned, he wasn’t sure. Was it Urie’s aggression? Remembering the torture his body went through at Cochlea? His anger at himself for being responsible for Amon going to that place now and possibly facing the same fate? Even though it was frosted in a light steam, he could still clearly see the contrasts in his skin tone of his right arm.

“Forgive me if I don’t really consider this evening a victory.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For any unfamiliar with Japanese style bathing and baths, please look it up; it's incredibly interesting. Also, it's awesome. If you ever get the chance, go to an onsen. You will never think of bathing the same way again; I promise you.
> 
> I think Urie has a lot of complicated feelings towards others, and he has a lot of trouble dealing with them and expressing them. He pissed me off in :re. Let's assume he has matured a bit in this fic. T-T
> 
> Thank you all for your inspiration!


	3. Switching Places-Dec 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the fight ended up longer than I thought. Here is part 1. This chapter takes place directly after Chapter 1.

“Shirazu of Sasaki squad reporting. Samurai has made contact here in Nichome. We’re engaging him.” Shirazu hoped he’d done that right. Sasaki was clearly preoccupied with Samurai’s recognition of him, and the call needed to be made immediately.

“Understood. Arima squad will make contact first being the closest in proximity. All other squads report to Nichome,” Matsuri Washuu was not surprised Samurai made contact with the Quinx squad. They were, after all, pretty much a walking contradiction. He was pleased, regardless. Marude’s plan had worked.

“Also-” Shirazu bit his lip. He didn’t know how to go about saying this, but he knew it needed to be said.

“Quinx Squad?” Washuu was impatient. He wanted professionalism, and Shirazu wasn’t dealing it out in spades.

“He recognizes Sasaki.” Shirazu replied quickly, intimidated somewhat by Washuu’s tone and still feeling rather inexperienced with speaking directly to such high standing superiors.

Kaneki heard the whole thing. If Shirazu just left it at that, it could mean anything- even a connection to Aogiri, which was something he was not willing to admit just yet or ever if it meant Hinami being put in danger, “Sasaki reporting,” the channel was open. It was best that it was him that said it; he felt responsible even now that he had been confirmed as still alive, “Akira . . .”

There was a pause. “ . . . . Mado here.” She sounded serious, confident, and . . . prepared.

“. . . . It’s Amon.” He didn’t apologize. Amon was alive. That’s what mattered. He remembered his own words _. ‘Are you saying it’s better to be dead than to live life as a ghoul?’_ Amon Koutaro was alive. Getting him through this in one piece was Sasaki’s new mission. Akira deserved to be happy. He was sure that Amon did, too.

Akira took a moment to digest the words like bittersweet medicine before replying, “Understood.” It was a whisper, but it still held strength. There was a mission to carry out. He was alive, but he was a ghoul. She didn’t possess the novelty of time to consider what that actually meant.

In front of her squad, Akira had visibly paled at the news, but she didn’t falter in her actions or words. She was good at holding things in. Sure, that meant they’d spill over suddenly in a fit of dramatics, but at least those times were more appropriate- far more appropriate than in the middle of a mission. Her new squad was still becoming familiar with her, but they knew enough to recognize that she was a woman of strength, and each of them respected her for it.

In this moment, Kaneki stood facing the Samurai, knowing full well that the half-ghoul before him was none other than the man from his past- a man he had trusted and who had returned the favor. Amon had been with him, had witnessed him, during such crucial times in his life; and vice-versa according to Amon’s own words upon their last meeting. Kaneki had tried every time to stop, though at times he had been more successful than others. It was always worth trying again, “Amon! We don’t have to fight. It’s not any different from back then. You can make a choice. Please.” Kaneki relaxed his stance but his six tentacles, now recovered from the previous attacks, fanned out behind him like an exotic flower sprouting from his back.

No, things were _definitely different from back then_. He was different. Eyepatch used his name, one that he had remembered and carried with him all of these years. It made Amon even more suspicious of who the ghoul really was or what his role was in this crazy fucked up world. If he was now working for the CCG, their roles completely reversed, it certainly made for one hell of an argument- _a reaper or a savior_? “Eyepatch,” of course, Amon’d remembered everything, “You, of all people, should know that there are no other options.” Yes, in the state that he was in now, he understood that it wasn’t the ghouls alone that were responsible for the cruelty and injustices of this world, but the world was still warped regardless. It still needed to be fixed, and if anyone was going to keep him from bringing justice about- even if it was the people he previously allied himself with- the CCG- he’d bring them down just as swiftly. He’d destroy anything in his way for he was on a mission to correct the world- no matter if it were human or ghoul or god. His last sanctuary had been destroyed. He lived only for one thing now. He had to. There was nothing left.

Saiko hadn’t returned from where she’d been thrown, but it was for the best. The four men left on the squad were still able to surround the Samurai sufficiently. Shirazu watched carefully. He hadn’t expected Sasan to actually appeal to the ghoul. Still, it didn’t look like it was working, and if he hadn’t put his kagune away, it was right that they didn’t either and that Tooru kept his knives ready.

“So, the reality is that all of you are working for them?” the Samurai observed the looks between them. They were clearly a team. They clearly worked together. It meant that the prior display was likely put together to draw him out. What had given them the idea that this would work? It was clever. It didn’t matter either way. These children that surrounded him were drenched in sins.

“There is no difference, is there, between the CCG and Aogiri?” The Samurai turned his mask to see the Quinx that surrounded him, turning his back on the one he knew from his past. The way he moved his head mirrored that of the traditional Noh theatre from which his mask had come from. For Urie, it was strange, but for Tooru and Ginshi, it was actually pretty terrifying.

Shirazu spoke first, “We had the choice!” No, he wasn’t the same as Sasaki. Sasan hadn’t been given a choice. He had been thrown down the rabbit hole by some lunatic just experimenting with the idea of making ghouls. Shirazu didn’t know details; he didn’t know if it was the Tree that had made him that way or something else, but he knew that his mentor hadn’t been given the choice while he had been. The CCG had given him a _choice_. Shirazu felt the need to make that distinction, even if he didn’t entirely understand what their new enemy was getting at. Maybe his line of thought wasn’t on par with what the Samurai was thinking, but he needed to say it.

Haise spoke then, “I don’t know what you’ve been through, but I have an idea. Please, I don’t want to fight you.”

Samurai extended his naginata, “And yet you must.” The naginata was incredibly long; just from looking at it, it was clear that only someone with the strength and power that Amon possessed could actually wield such a long and heavy blade. The tip of the blade was less than a meter from Kaneki’s throat, but he remained firm in staring back at his opponent.

Kaneki’s expression softened. Why did memories from three years ago feel like they had only occurred days prior?

Amon lunged forward suddenly, “Because we’re both bound by duty, aren’t we?!”

Kaneki dodged the blade by jumping to the right, his rinkaku shooting to the left and forward to the Samurai from the front.

“Now!” Ginshi yelled to Urie as Samurai lunged forward towards Sasaki.

Ginshi had already gone over a strategy with them earlier in the day. It was never something he planned on actually working or even planned on having the opportunity to try, but after being encouraged by Tooru and after getting a ridiculous amount of criticism wryly disguised as advice from Urie, they had gone over the strategy a few times in hope that it would work in bringing down the ghoul with or without Sasaki’s help. It just meant that the three had to trust each other. It was easy in theory but not in practice. Tooru and Ginshi trusted each other fully, but both of them had trouble accepting anything Urie said or did as truth any longer. Even if Mutsuki was more understanding of the Rank 2 Investigator, he still had seen enough of his immaturity to leave room for doubt. If this worked, it could mean ending the battle quickly and painlessly.

Urie ran straight for Samurai’s back. Shirazu ran forward while Mutsuki ran to take Urie’s position behind their target while throwing knives. Shirazu jumped and aimed his ukaku missiles to hit from both the left and the right. The last part was Urie’s attack. He was supposed to use his quinque and kagune to come in from the back but-but he never got the chance. Wings, sapphire in hue, sprouted suddenly from Samurai’s back, and they burned only a second before they burst, seemingly into ribbons, sharp as blades. The left wing tied together to stab straight into Urie’s stomach while the right wing remained undone, the ribbons shooting down upon Sasaki suddenly like sheets of rain.

He’d made it. Blood spilled from Tooru’s mouth and he coughed a few times into Urie’s white coat, splattering a ruby red color in its center. Mutsuki had moved quickly, faster than either of the other boys due to his tiny frame, and he’d stopped the kagune from tearing through Urie’s chest.

Urie was too stunned to speak, but his wide eyes told Tooru everything. Tooru’s legs were too weak from the pain below his chest to stand, and Urie gripped his shoulders to steady him as the ribbons pulled out of Mutsuki’s small body and unraveled to rain down on Sasaki once more. Mutsuki was ridiculously small. Urie had always known it, but it was only now that he understood it. No wonder it took so much effort for him to improve. He was the size of a petit young girl. He only knew he wasn’t frail due to the face that he had trained with him enough to know he was mainly muscle.

“I can take this,” Tooru reasoned in response to Urie’s confusion and shock. Meaning Urie couldn’t. The Quinx looked angrily back at his green-haired partner. This was ridiculous.

“Urie, move back!” Shirazu barked an order to get Tooru out of harm’s way as he ran around to face Samurai as an aid to Sasaki. The attack hadn’t worked, but if anyone could survive that blow out of the four Quinx, it would be Mutsuki- or so he hoped. If the wound was too drastic, his anemia would kick in.

Urie picked up his teammate and ran to another area of the roof top that was out of harm’s way even from stray kagune. He immediately began yelling as he set Mutsuki down in a sitting position against a wall of a stairwell, “You _idiot_. _I didn’t ask for that_! What were you thinking?!”

“Help the others!” Mutsuki reasoned while gripping his stomach, “We’re a team, Urie,” he added, attempting to sound urgent but also encouraging. He focused on trying to stop the bleeding, putting pressure where he could.

“Tch-” Urie turned to run back. He didn’t need any stupid team members that played hero on his part. Fucking ridiculous.

Mutsuki knew the others would arrive soon. He had a chance. He wouldn’t admit it to the others, but there was no way in hell he could heal all of this without some sort of assistance. He would pass out soon if he couldn’t get the bleeding to stop. The move had been reckless, but it had been the right one. Urie’s healing abilities were the worst out of the four; it wasn’t a secret. He had plenty of other great qualities, but for some reason, the processing of the RC Cells through his kakuhou just weren’t impressive in the means of healing. At least he could produce kagune at all. Yes, Tooru had made the right decision. He had taken the damage so that Urie, who was a much better fighter, could stay in the battle.

When the Rank 2 Quinx met back with Shirazu and Sasaki, he saw that the two had practically engaged in a dance of dodging with the Samurai. Neither Shirazu nor Sasaki were getting a hit in edgewise.

“Damn it!” He watched carefully, contemplating the next move. Sasaki didn’t have his quinque still. Neither did Shirazu. He couldn’t let this damn mission be a failure. If he didn’t get a fucking promotion after this some heads were going to roll. He’d get the quinques to them so that they could at least have a chance of an offensive position.

“Sasaki! Ginshi!’ He slid the metal briefcases across the cement roof and watched as Ginshi fumbled and rolled to grab his while Sasaki refused to touch it and tossed a tentacle in its direction to knock it out of the way of his feet.

What? What the hell?!

Urie, with his own quinque drawn, ran in after both of them to join in the battle, eyes glaring at the half-ghoul who’d refused his gracious aid.

“Wear him out!” Shirazu yelled as Urie joined in. If he was an ukaku user, that meant that he couldn’t keep this up forever. He was going to have to eventually take a rest from using the ribbon form of his ukaku. Shirazu would know; he could only send so many of his ukaku missiles before feeling like he had to catch his breath like he was doing now, because it had been his own kagune that made been blocking most of them. Urie’s swordsmanship was doing well against the naginata that the Samurai was using, and Sasaki’s rinkaku was creating distance between their party and the Samurai by reaching to cut down the enemy’s ukaku, but it was a messy and difficult battle. It was taking three of them just to keep Samurai on his toes. None of them had actually done any real damage to him.

Suddenly, the Samurai lunged forward again, and this time, extended his arm in a jab of the naginata straight for Kaneki’s face. It had stopped only centimeters from his face and would have cut him through had it not been for the fact the Urie had stopped it with his own kagune. As if he had hooked a fish, Samurai pulled his weapon forward with a jerk bringing Urie with him.

“Kuki!” Sasan ran in, rinkaku spinning like blades to stop the onslaught of sapphire ukaku ribbons that continuously rained from the sky as they were steadily and effortlessly produced from Amon’s shoulders.

Urie tried to cut the naginata with his own Tsunagi, but the metals were matched. As he was pulled ever closer, there was only one thing he could think of to do. He turned Tsunagi backwards, and sliced his own kagune off his back in one quick strike. He fell to the ground hard, and the rest of his kagune dissipated as Sasaki reached him.

“Get up!” The half-ghoul pulled up the Quinx and immediately formed his own kagune into six thick blades to cut at the naginata or even just the hand or arm that the naginata was in. Success. The huge weapon fell apart in three pieces, and Urie used the confusion to his advantage to dive and make an aim for the enemy’s chest. The Tsunagi made contact and pieced through, but Urie wouldn’t make it back. A ribbon went straight through the Q’s body before Amon grabbed the boy by his hair and slammed his head into the cement below.

Before Amon could do any more damage to Kaneki’s subordinate, Kaneki raced in to grab Kuki, sending his rinkaku ahead of him to also make clean cuts through the other ghoul. Instead, the Samurai let go of Urie and jumped back to create distance.

Predicting the move, Shirazu jumped forward with him to bring down his own quinque sword upon the Samurai’s head. It met only with Amon’s forehead, cutting through the mask in the process. In response, Amon grabbed the Quinx with his bare hands and threw him up into the air. The ribbon ukaku cut through in razors all throughout Shriazu’s body, and he fell back to the cement roof below hard, blood splattering all around him like a burst water balloon filled with red paint.

Shirazu wasn’t moving. It made Sasaki nervous. Reinforcements were coming. He had to trust that they’d arrive in time to provide medical support. He looked down at Urie. He was out cold, the wound on his head evidence that he likely had a concussion in addition to his other wounds. Kaneki carefully laid him down.

Now, it was just the two of them. Amon’s mask fell from the cut Shirazu had made in his last attack with his quinque. The mask was only wooden, after all. The face beneath it was by no means angry; it looked nothing at all like the mask Samurai had chosen for himself. It was just the relentless passion of Amon Koutaro, the fierce look of strength and determination Kaneki could remember from all of those years ago.

Kaneki looked back, a little sad, but also a little happy, “It really is you,” and he tried to smile, but he was sure it didn’t look right because it felt bittersweet.

“Neither of us need to be saved now, right?” Amon was ready to get serious, and he wasn’t going to lose. He had every intention to kill, to fight until he was either dead or nothing more than a limbless torso, but he knew Eyepatch was not the same. “-because you’re already a murderer now, aren’t you?” And Amon wondered just who Eyepatch was fighting for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I am motivated by your comments! Thank you!  
> I realize that canonly, Shirazu would have been better to use than Mutsuki as a shield, but I'm just gonna be AU about it and say Mutsuki has good regenerative abilities. ToT I'll work on the reason for the anemia later~  
> I am so nervous about writing Amon. I feel like he is a big sweetie, but, at least here, he feels like he has lost everything. T-T


	4. Only Human Only Ghoul-Dec 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not really happy with this chapter, but ah well. T-T  
> This takes place directly after chapter 2 and is part two of the fight with Samurai.  
> 

“You said that the ghouls were the ones corrupting this world.” Kaneki cracked a finger and stretched his back, bones popping in the process. He was by no means at his limit, but he couldn’t push himself. He’d need to defeat Amon without using his kakuja. Anything could happen, and he couldn’t take the risk. He didn’t want to actually hurt Amon or anyone else for that matter, but after what had happened in Cochlea, he was terrified that using his kakuja would be synonymous with losing his mind. “But it wasn’t the ghouls or the humans. The whole world itself is wrong, isn’t it?”

_Reaper or savior?_

Amon listened. He agreed now. That’s why he was fighting now with his own sense of justice. He fought and killed on his own terms. Of course, at times, Aogiri would pressure him with certain _requests_ , but for the most part, they didn’t mettle with his affairs. Once they had turned him, they mostly became observers, delighting in the tragedy of his existence and applauding the quiet chaos he’d brought to the streets of Tokyo. What had Eto called him? That’s right. _Amusing._ He wasn’t _useful_ like Owl- like Takizawa. They had effectively _broken_ him, but the same could not be said of Samurai. And, they had nothing to use against him; he had nothing to lose. So, Aogiri watched his movements, monitored his actions, but rarely did they interfere. The one most vocal towards him simply enjoyed toying with him, because she had found him so endlessly amusing. He couldn’t count his situation with Aogiri as luck. He was a ghoul now. There was nothing lucky about that.

“So, is this your answer, then? Killing those who match whatever criteria you’ve designed? You deal your justice according to a set of rules? You think that by ridding the world of evil people one by one, you’re actually changing anything?” Kaneki recognized it only because it was part of the logic he used when killing ghouls in the past. For example, at the ghoul restaurant, he had little problem eliminating what was in his way because he had labeled the ghouls there as _evil_. Even if he wasn’t _good_ , he could still take it upon himself to destroy what was _evil_.

“And you? Even worse? You kill only those that break the laws of humans- only ghouls. You’re no better than I was back then.”

“You’re right,” Kaneki reflected aloud, somewhat hoping the Quinx could not make out the details of their conversation if they were still conscious.

Amon never relaxed in the face of his enemy, but this wasn’t the first time he had questioned if the person before him, if Eyepatch, really was his enemy at all, “If I’m right then why-”

“Because this-” _is my redemption_. He couldn’t say it out loud, because what if it turned out not to be true at all? His sins were many. What if there was no making up for them? There was no way to be good again? Sasaki said softly, a promise he wasn’t even sure he could keep, “You can come back.”

“You talk of it as though you were giving me an option,” the Samurai leaned forward, ready to strike at any second.

Amon had a point. There was no option. It was either surrender or fight. Kaneki was silent.

Their roles really had reversed, hadn’t they? “Tch, I ask you, then. Will you simply let me pass?” The whole situation was rather surreal. Then again, his life since the Anteiku raid had been surreal. A nightmare. These past nearly three years amounted to little more than a long nightmare. This battle was just an extension of one long and endless night.

“No.” Haise wished he could, but it was just not possible. He had others he had to _protect_. Right now he was making a decision, and his decision was to protect his family first. Amon was standing in the way of that.

“There’s our answer, then.”

Yes, they must fight. No amount of reasoning- no amount of talking would change that.

Samurai moved first, and Haise ran to meet him. Both without weapons, the two half-ghouls ran at each other with kagune flaring. Two large blue ribbons burst from Amon’s back, reaching high before plummeting towards Kaneki to slice him in two. Kaneki had an advantage with the six tentacles he had currently produced. He shot the four thinner ones above him and the two, large centipede like kagune straight for the Samurai. Just before their kagune met above Kaneki’s head, Samurai’s sapphire ribbons burst like confetti, sending hundreds of small, razor like threads straight through the investigator.

Kaneki screamed and shut his eyes in pain as he was pierced through. Through. He was pierced through in so many places, blood spilling from his body like small rivers down his limbs. It was too many wounds at once. _Too much blood_. He looked up to see Amon over him, eyes downcast and . . . _empty_.

Amon coughed, blood reaching up through his throat to dribble out his mouth and splatter to the concrete rooftop below.

Kaneki stared. He noticed now that Amon had also been pierced through. Kaneki’s rinkaku had met its target and dived straight through Amon’s stomach. The hole left there was just the same as when Amon had hit Kaneki himself all those years ago. Was this some form of sick, twisted karma?

Arima’s Squad arrived on the scene, and the CCG’s trump card watched as one of the Qs in a nearby building walked to the edge of a broken window. Yonebashi steadied her rifle and shot straight for Haise. Arima’s squad waited for a signal from their leader, but Arima made no movement to assist.

There was so much blood. Kaneki felt himself growing weaker. He pulled his rinkaku out and Amon fell to his knees, seemingly in too much shock and pain to move properly or speak. Kaneki caught him, going to his knees himself with the weight of the other ghoul and the pain of his own injuries. His arms were under both of Amon’s, and as he struggled to hold him up, his head fell into Amon’s neck. He was suddenly hyper aware of Amon’s smell. Of flesh. Of blood beneath.

_Eat, because you’ll get stronger. **You have to live.** Eat. Eat. Eat. Eat. Eat. It hurts. It hurts. Eat. Then, I can protect protect protect._

His mouth wrapped around the sweat salted skin and his teeth bit deeply into the sensitive tissue of Amon’s neck just where it met the curve of his shoulder, and just as the blood bubbled and poured into his mouth and down his chin like thick red wine, a bullet pierced straight into his own shoulder. A second after impact the cold liquid Kaneki had become too familiar with began to flow through his bloodstream. He bit down all the way and ripped away at the skin, chewing quickly and hungrily, ignoring the blood that dripped as the cold liquid continued to course through him. It was so . . . relaxing. He loved it. He reveled in the feeling of its spread from the muscles in his shoulder down his back and to his heart. Accompanied with the rush of flesh, he reached a sort of peace with a pleased smile falling to his face. This feeling, the peace brought by the RC suppressants. He was in its power as it helped him to just forget everything that-a second RC suppressant his same shoulder.

He looked up into the building next door. He had to blink several times and pull his mouth regrettably away from the sweet taste of flesh for him to see clearly. There, in the dark broken window she had previously been thrown through stood Saiko, aiming the sniper rifle down to send a bullet straight into-

_Shit. I lost control. I almost- I was so close to using my kakuja, and if that happened; if I had used it, I-_

Kaneki felt tears in his eyes and he couldn’t process whether it was from relief or fear.

_I almost killed him. I almost ate him._

_You saved me, Saiko._

He’d almost lost his mind to the noise inside his head and the rush of ecstasy from the sweet flesh, but she’d stopped him. Of course. He needed to steady the Samurai- not kill him. Amon. He couldn’t kill Amon. What had he been-?

Kaneki turned and attempted to lay down the ghoul into the pavement. Just as Amon began to struggle to get up, Kaneki changed the angle of his attacks and sent all of his kagune into the exhausted ghoul’s limbs to keep him pegged down. He needed to keep him from moving long enough that Saiko could get another shot in- or possibly three. It would take more. Kaneki looked up at the blue-haired Quinx. Amon stirred, eyes wide with remembrance from the first time Kaneki had bit him in almost the same spot. He tried to use his ukaku, but was only able to move small ribbons that one of Kaneki’s kagune, shaped into a blade, continually cut away at. Amon was out of options.

Saiko saw through her scope. Sasaki’s mouth was red and bloody, the blood from their enemy dribbling down his chin and dripping down his neck as he pinned the other in place for her. The sight was horrifying, but it was still her Maman, just as it had been at the auction house. There was another shot. She cocked the gun and shot again. That was two that had landed now in Amon’s chest. She hadn't missed her target once. Would the Samurai need more? She waited, watching her leader through the scope to signal that either more was needed or the Samurai was finished.

Kaneki noticed, then, that Arima was there, and he quickly wiped his moth while motioning for Saiko to shoot a third time. Had Arima seen? Would he know that he’d tasted Amon? That he’d nearly lost control? Amon was still producing shots of thin sapphire ribbons to cut away at Kaneki’s skin, so he motioned for Saiko to shoot again. It took four RC suppressant bullets to subdue himself completely at the auction house, not that any of them had been necessary. For Amon, maybe five or six? In this condition? Four. Or he wouldn’t heal at all.

Amon didn’t speak as he was shot, knowing now that he would be captured and not knowing whether it was worth it to live through or not. He was hungry, yes, but he was also weak, too weak to fight against the half-ghoul any longer and much too weak to move from the suppressants swimming through his veins. For a brief moment, he contemplated making some kind of effort to commit suicide, only realizing a split second later that whatever the CCG had lined up for him would be nothing in comparison to what hell he lived and breathed and accepted as _normal_ now.

Akira’s Squad arrived on the building opposite of the one Arima’s squad had made it to. She looked down from the building at the scene below. She could see the white haired man standing over the person she knew was the one person she couldn’t bear to see, but neither of them were wielding weapons and neither of them were wearing masks. They had fought with kagune alone- such was a battle between ghouls?

She pulled her sniper rifle off of her back and quickly pulled the scope off to look through it down at the scene. What she saw caused her to loose footing, and she was kneeling suddenly as she watched with silent terror.

She saw his face. She couldn’t hear anything; the world was a white silence. From her scope, she saw red tentacles pinned through the limbs of the man she had once thought upon as a lover, and she watched as four RC suppressant bullets sank into his chest and his eyes fell closed. She continued to watch everything through the scope. Yonebashi had jumped down from a window in another building carrying a rifle the same model as Akira’s own. She watched as the red, blood stained limbs that sprouted from Sasaki’s back dissipated and the girl ran to embrace him. She watched as the two spoke, the younger pulling cuffs from her jacket to hand to her superior so that he could walk over to the man that was left to sleep.

Haise, far gentler than necessary and shaking with guilt, took Amon’s wrist and latched the cuffs together. Amon was alive, but it was bittersweet. They didn’t have to fight anymore, but it meant that one of them had lost. He pulled the tranquilizers from his own shoulder, and then pulled the other four out of Amon’s chest and tossed them aside. He touched the wound on the other’s neck. He wiped away at the wound with his hand. With how good it had tasted, Kaneki expected the wound to be much deeper, but it wasn’t as bad as it looked.  Soon, it would heal, even with the RC suppressants. It meant Kaneki hadn’t hurt him too badly. At least, not when he had leaned in to eat-

When he pulled his hand away, he realized it was covered in blood. Disgust moved through him in a wave. He loved the smell; it was so enticing, smelled so delicious; it was taking everything in himself not to just lick his fingers.

Watching her Maman, Saiko put two and two together. She had, after all, just witnessed her mentor attempt to eat the enemy ghoul. She could tell now what his inner struggle was. It didn’t help that Sasaki did a very poor job of hiding the desire on his face as he looked at his hand. Saiko pulled something else from her jacket and handed it to the white haired half-ghoul.

A handkerchief. He looked at her, his eyes a little wide, before he went to cleaning his lips, chin, neck, and hands. He just wanted everything to be over; he wanted to wipe it all away with the pretty white cloth and forget all of it.

It was too late.

Unknown to Haise, Akira had seen enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed it~ /kicks a rock
> 
> Thank you all for your support!


	5. Of Compliments and Robots-Dec 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place after Chapter 2.

It had been nearly 48 hours since the mission. Haise had called a meeting with the Qs. They hadn’t met altogether since the early morning of the Samurai mission.

They were all in the meeting room when he came in. Tooru was in the chair of the desk. Urie and Saiko were in the couch on the left, and Shirazu was leaning against the desk- nearly sitting on a stack of papers, but not quite. That would be rude, and he tried to be mindful of Sasaki’s things. They all visibly straightened when their superior entered, memories of their last debriefing going through their minds. Hopefully it wouldn’t be as awkward or as brief.

Haise was going to remain standing. In his head, when he’d practiced, he had remained standing, but when he walked in to see all of their expressions, eager and curious, he went quiet and sat down. It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable. He’d finished all of the reports and recommendations. He’d had several additional forms to fill out today as well. He thought he’d never be done. He hated the amount of paper work that was involved in police work. Movies certainly never portrayed investigative work accurately; a lot of crime novels didn’t, either. It depended on the author. He felt a little better as soon as he sat down. Maybe it wasn’t as professional, but fine. He hadn’t really been the picture of professionalism lately, and he knew the Qs wouldn’t mind.

His squad stared. They’d noticed that, if Sasaki was tired enough, he’d get cranky. He wouldn’t show the same patience he used to have. Each of them secretly hoped he wasn’t too tired to conduct the meeting appropriately; it was their first win, after all.

Kaneki relaxed in the couch and leaned back and stretched. He was only wearing socks, but he managed to crack his second toes by hooking each big toe over them anyways. Maybe he was too relaxed. He folded his arms in front of himself, each of his elbows resting in his hands, looked up at each of them, and spoke with a smile, “You were all incredible Friday night. I honestly had no idea that all of you had improved so much in the last three months.”

“Yes, Maman go on,” Saiko purred. It was nice to be praised for once- and for something regarding work? It was her first time, actually.

His smile disappeared and his voice lost its ring, “You have to keep getting better.” For the change to take place so fast, it made his previous words feel almost empty.

“Sasan?” Ginshi hadn’t expected that, but right away, he recalled the conversation he’d had with Sasaki regarding their improvements. It had been the day he’d found him with the RC suppressants and the quinque knife. He’d said that it wasn’t enough. Whatever improvements they’d made wasn’t enough.

“Honestly, this was technically only our first victory, and while it is seen as an impressive win, we have to keep . . . We have to continue showing them what we’re capable of.”

“Sasaki.” Mutsuki’s tone was that of concern.

“All of you don’t seem to realize what we-what all of you are.” However similar, his contract was certainly different from theirs.

“No, I get it. I’ve seen it in a movie- the one with the robots, you know?” Saiko was not shocked by his words. She remembered the night in the playground. Sasaki was aware of something they weren’t, or possibly, he was worrying over certain things unnecessarily. It was like him to attempt to take everything on himself.

“Saiko- shut-“

“You, shut up, Urie, I’m being serious, so pay attention.” She grabbed his right hand and went on much to the surprise of everyone else in the room; since when were the two quite so familiar with each other? “The robots were new and strong and did a lot of things the people couldn’t do on their own. The robots were really helpful. But, over time, the robots would malfunction or need repairs. Also, the people wanted the robots to do more things and be more powerful. So, when new models of robots were released, it was actually more expensive to repair or update the old robots than simply buy new ones. So, the old ones were disposed of.”

The silence was heavy.

Kaneki stared at the blue haired Quinx. She played with Urie’s right hand, tracing around the digits with her index finger as if she were going to cut it out of paper. When she looked up, she realized that they were all staring at her.

“It’s not like that?”

Haise unfolded his arms and moved his right hand into his left sleeve to scratch at his wrist, “Somewhat . . . yes,” he looked down at his black fingernails, still annoyed that they wouldn’t grow normally. His voice took on a flat tone that was unapologetic and cold, “You’re all expendable.”

There. He’d said it. Finally. He’d been thinking it for months but only now was he voicing it. He hoped they couldn’t tell . . . how much that fact scared him. Truly worried him.

There was a long pause before someone spoke again; it was Tooru. His voice was gentle; his words attempting to comfort his mentor who, from what he could tell, needed the most comfort at this moment, “Sasan, we all know this.”

Kaneki looked up, eyes meeting Tooru’s one visible eye. They knew? Then, weren’t they worried? Weren’t they scared? Why were they okay with-?

Ginshi looked serious, mature, his expression settling on something Sasaki had seen once before but the other Quinx hadn’t, “Like I said before, I know you tend to treat us as such, well, I mean, not as much lately, but still- here’s a prime example. Sasan, _we’re not kids_.”

“I’m not expendable. I’ll never let myself become such, either,” Urie was somehow managing a disinterested scowl. He only glanced in Sasaki’s direction.

Saiko let go of Urie’s hand and walked over to her Maman, sitting on the floor beneath him like a child meeting a parent for the reading of a storybook. Ignoring his personal boundaries, which she often used to do, but hadn’t lately because he had become so sensitive to being touched, she put her hands on his knees and leaned up on her own to look at him square in the face, “Thank you, Maman, but we’re going to be okay. Please trust us.”

Tooru added, knowing just what to say to ease Sasaki’s worries further, “I’m happy here. At the chateau. With everyone. With you. I’ve honestly . . . never been happier.”

“I never expected things to end up this way,” Shirazu didn’t elaborate on his meaning, but he was wearing a toothy grin and a thoughtful expression.

“We’re not going anywhere, so I don’t know what the hell the big deal is.” Urie offered.

Kaneki understood their attempts to console him, but he still wasn’t okay. He was scared. If they weren’t scared, he was still scared for them. Didn’t they understand? No, they could never. He shook his head. Saiko let go briefly, only to move onto the couch beside him and hug him from there. He made no effort to push her away. Part of him enjoyed it. She was so warm.

“I got a request from Dr. Shiba that all of you, save for Urie, go in for surgery. He’s been checking your records, and he decided it was time for each of you to move up to the same stage as Urie in the  . . . .”

“Experiment,” Shirazu finished for him the word that he, himself, seemed entirely unaffected by.

“Yes,” Kaneki admitted.

“We all signed up for it, Sasan; it’s not like it’s a surprise,” Shirazu was trying to be reasonable.

“Your cell count is too high, Shirazu.” Kaneki’s voice was flat and left no room for argument.

Still, the blonde Quinx pressed on, “Don’t worry about me, Sasan.”

“Don’t you get it? If it gets any higher you’d-“

Saiko pulled away to look at their mentor, “I don’t care about it at all, really. It’s okay. I’d be more like Maman.”

Kaneki’s eyes narrowed, and his tone was berating, “Saiko, it’s not that easy.”

She wasn’t pouting. She was finally showing her age. She was technically older than all of the Quinx, and the immaturity she had shown in the past was all a choice on her part- an act to avoid being hurt, “I still haven’t proved it to you, yet? That you’ve underestimated me? I love that you spoil me. I love that you go out of your way to protect me. But I understand now. I realized back then at the auction house that I want to support _you_ , Maman. It’s not satisfying with only you supporting me. I’m not going to be able to do anything for you if I continue standing still.”

Sasaki just stared.

After a beat, Urie sighed, “This is a waste of time. We all knew the risks when we signed the contract.” Like, really, why were they even talking about it?

Kaneki wouldn’t let it go, “You didn’t.”

Kuki had no problem arguing with his superior. Even if he held more respect for him now than he ever had in the past, even if he followed him, he still enjoyed the dynamic of challenging him, especially when Sasaki was being annoying and weak like he was now, “We did. You think we don’t live everyday knowing it? We’ve got kakuhou. We get it.” After the words left his mouth, however, he remembered the Hakone woods. He remembered the blood. He remembered the heart, the intestines, and the cracking of ribs.

For the briefest of moments, Kuki’s eyes were apologetic, but he looked away quickly.

Kaneki had caught it. “It’s hell,” he said simply, knowing that Kuki was remembering the lesson he’d attempted to give him in the woods. The half-ghoul scratched his wrist and then dove a hand through the strands of his hair, pulling his hand out from his powder white strands quickly. “It’s absolute hell,” and his voice had trembled as if he were remembering something awful.

Tooru noticed the air around their mentor change, but he wasn’t about to give up, “Ginshi’s right, though, Sasan, we all signed up for it. We’re . . . . prepared.” Tooru wasn’t sure in all honesty. The way they had treated Sasaki at the debriefing meeting after he had actually _defeated_ Samurai was awful. Tooru wasn’t sure he was strong enough to handle something like that.

“I’m not going to become a ghoul,” Urie insisted, thinking he was speaking for himself when in actuality, he was unknowingly comforting Sasaki and attempting to ease him of his worries.

Kaneki noticed that his hands were trembling, but maybe they needed a show. They needed something. Why weren’t they _scared_? Why didn’t they _understand_? Even just how others reacted; they were there to see first-hand how he was discriminated against by his co-workers. Even that wasn’t affecting them? “It’s one thing to talk about it; it’s another to-” he stopped, because _even he_ couldn’t talk about it. He suddenly wished Hide were with him. He _longed_ for Hide. Hide would have been able to make this _okay_. He would have been able to make him _okay_. He _needed_ Hide. He pulled his feet up onto the sofa to hug his knees. It wouldn’t do; he wasn’t being a leader right now. He was just being grumpy and angry and immature and selfish. He just wanted them to _understand_. He just wanted them to be _safe_. They couldn’t stay here with the CCG and ever hope of finding happiness for themselves.

He couldn’t lose any more people.

He had to _protect_ them.

“Maman,” Saiko’s voice was a whisper. She had seen him like this before- in the park. She was worried he would begin crying again here, this time in front of all of them.

“Like I said, this is pointless,” Urie insisted in a flat tone. He was getting frustrated. Why couldn’t Sasaki just get over it? It was so annoying.

“Thanks, but you . . . gotta let it go, Sasan,” Shirazu offered softly.

“We’re lucky to have you, Sasaki,” Tooru attempted more words of comfort.

Kaneki wasn’t satisfied. That was _fine_. If they were just going to sit back and take it, that was _fine_. He’d protect them. He’d find a way before it was too late. He would. He just hadn’t expected the request from Dr. Shiba. He hadn’t expected that. It was so soon- _too soon_. He wasn’t strong enough yet. At least, he didn’t think so. He hadn’t actually used his kakuja in the battle with Samurai. Saiko had stopped him. He wondered what it was like now. Could he use it? No, could he control it? Himself?

This was just annoying. Urie hated that this was dragging on, so he attempted to change the subject, “So did you write any formal recommendations?” This was supposed to be a debriefing meeting. He was supposed to be hearing about his promotion.

“I wrote six. I won’t give details, because none of them are promises,” his words were clipped, nearly matching Urie in tone and expression. Saiko noticed and inwardly thought it was adorable however inappropriate the timing was.

“Was there anything else?” Shirazu dared to ask.

“Yes, yeah, but . . . I’m tired,” Kaneki was feeling a headache coming on. He only wanted to protect them. Why the hell was that so damn difficult?!

“Sasan?” Shirazu was immediately concerned. He was the only one who knew of their mentor’s current bad habits he’d taken up in the last two weeks. It kept him on alert.

“I’m fine. Just, let’s get coffee tomorrow morning? My treat.”

Tooru spoke up, “That sounds nice. We haven’t been out together in a long time.” The truth was that the five of them hadn’t been out together since before Haise had gotten his memories back, which was far, far too long. In the past, they had gone out together at least once a week.

Shirazu welcomed the alternative to finishing the debriefing meeting now, “Can we go back to :re? Remember, the place with the good coffee and the cute waitress?”

The cute waitress was Touka. He knew that now. Kaneki only faltered for a beat; he hoped no one noticed, “Sure, that sounds good.”

“So we’re _done_?” Urie was ready for the protective bubble of his room. Another second with this annoying bastard and he was going to lash out.

“Yeah, let’s go over together tomorrow at about eight. We are scheduled for a half day tomorrow. We might be assisting with other cases if we aren’t assigned one.” Kaneki was gently moving out of Saiko’s grip. His headache was awful. He needed to get upstairs.

“So, the meeting’s over?” Urie again.

“Yes, good night.” Kaneki stood to leave, matching Urie’s desire to return to his room. He cracked a finger. They just didn’t _get it_. These _kids_ just didn’t understand. _They had signed their lives away._

“Sasan!” as Kaneki left the room, Shirazu followed after him, and when Kaneki didn’t stop, Shirazu kept following him up the stairs.

“Sasan, you’ve got that look in your eyes. I can’t leave you like this,” Shirazu spoke in a hushed tone as he caught up to the half-ghoul.

“Let it go, Shirazu,” Sasaki was done speaking to them for now. He just needed to get back upstairs. He needed to be in his room. He needed to feel the-

“No, nope, I’m not gonna do it.” Shirazu was on his heels.

“I just need to be alone,” and there was now an edge in Sasaki’s voice.

“Nope, not gonna happen.”

“You’re only making things worse,” he threatened.

That hurt and the hurt the Quinx felt from the comment immediately showed on his face, but Shirazu could be stubborn when he wanted to be. Urie had taught him how, “Then _I’ll be selfish_ and keep _you_ company until _I_ feel better.”

“I’m not going to do anything.”

“I don’t know that.”

“You ask me to trust you, and then you refuse to do the same for me?”

“I-“

Kaneki reached his door, opened it, walked in, and immediately shut it closed. Shirazu’s right hand was on the door frame and Kaneki spoke thorough the opening, “Trust me; I really just want to sleep. I’ve been doing paperwork for hours on end. Let me rest.”

“ . . . okay.” Shirazu wouldn’t cause a scene. The others would hear. It would raise suspicion. However, he didn’t trust the half-ghoul, at least, not with this.

“Good night.”

“Goodnight, Sasaki,” Ginshi returned as he watched Sasaki close the door.

Kaneki locked the door and sighed. Where had he put those syringes? His headache was awful.

Shirazu listened from the other side of the door. No, he wasn’t going anywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope no one was too ooc. Was Urie /too/ cute? Maybe he was /too/ cute. T-T Thank you all for your support!
> 
> I imagine Kaneki is really grumpy when he's tired.


	6. (Omake) Viral Video- Dec 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not the next chapter. I don't have it ready yet, but I have been writing and working on other chapters. As an apology for not having the next chapter, please try to enjoy this omake.

He wasn’t sure how he’d stumbled upon the video, but here he was, on the world’s most popular public video site, watching a small Italian child with curly brown hair and a voice like sticky honey reason with his mom over eating his dinner.

His mother was behind the camera filming him as he sat in front of his dinner plate that consisted of potato gnocchi, rice, and fried octopus. The child wouldn’t eat the octopus. Kaneki couldn’t understand why he kept watching, because as soon as he began to understand where the conversation was going due to the boy’s questions, he felt his heart grow tight.

“This octopus isn’t real, is it?” the little boy asked his mother while fiddling with his shirt nearly pulling it over his head in the process only to pull it back down to keep talking. His eyes were full of absolute trust that any question he’d ask his mother would be answered with only the truth. He couldn’t have been a day over three years old.

“-and it neither speaks nor has a head, right?” as all young children, he was inquisitive, but his logical reasoning seemed well beyond his years.

“No. Those are its little legs.”

“Is its head in the sea?”

“It’s at the fish market.”

The boy’s facial expression dropped, clearly upset and confused, and there was a pause before he asked, “the man chopped him up like this?” He made a sawing motion with his hands over the plate. It was silly; the ‘legs’, or tentacles rather, couldn’t be seen by any means as it was already chopped up and fried. It looked like little indistinguishable pieces of kushikatsu- fried tofu, even.

His mother, from the other side of the camera, affirmed this and when the boy asked why, she said, “So we could eat him.”

Kaneki felt something in him snap.

The boy asked again, as if he didn’t understand her very simple and honest answer, “but why?” His eyebrows were raised in an honest display of a complete lack of understanding.

“So we could eat it. -just like we chop chickens and cows and-

Kaneki watched the little boy shake his head ‘no’ as if the whole idea was absurd and so very wrong. The boy’s eyes were wide in dismay and confusion when he spoke, “Nobody eats chickens.”

“No one eats chickens?” the mother’s tone was an octave lower implying that her son was wrong; it was indeed a fact that people ate chickens.

The boy shook his head immediately, and spoke, “Yes, they are animals.”

_What?_

“Maman, why are you crying?” Saiko walked into the living room with the other three Quinx right behind her. They were all there together for the first time in thirteen days- nearly two weeks. Urie had gone to pick them up a few hours ago, and they’d gone out for food together. Then, they’d all taken the JR back to the chateau. That much time had already passed?

Immediately, Haise wiped his face with his sleeve and shut the laptop that was resting on his thighs. Of course, since the video had not been closed, it continued playing for a couple seconds, the boy’s innocent Italian going on about animals and eating and-

“You were watching a video?” She asked curiously and quickly crossed the distance between them. They hadn’t seen each other in nearly two weeks, after all.

The blue haired Quinx was on him in a second, arms wrapping around his waist as he continued to tend to his face to hide his ever growing embarrassment, because now all of them were there and they were all seeing how ridiculously sentimental he had the capacity to be and how incredibly weak he was currently. He would never live this down, would he? He was just glad that they hadn’t all been here during what had transpired recently.

“Maman, I want to see. Show me?” She kissed his cheek and despite it being a while since he had seen her, Haise pushed her away gently out of embarrassment. It wasn’t that the affection offended him; he just didn’t appreciate her being so open with it in front of the others; it was embarrassing and it was bad enough already after they’d had that last conversation where the entire squad seemed to be making the biggest effort to keep him from panicking over their very real and very inescapable situation. They’d returned now from the operation; there was no going back. They were just seeing too deeply into what he was having an impossible time of hiding.

Urie spoke then, sitting on the other side of Saiko, “It’s just a video, right? Really? You can be so-“

Shirazu had grabbed a pillow from the armchair to throw at Urie and effectively cut his sentence short even if he had easily caught it, “I wanna see it, too.” Urie gave him an annoyed glare, but deciding he was too tired to start anything, he handed the pillow to Saiko, who immediately went to wrapping her arms around it since Sasaki had pushed her away. There wasn’t enough room for Shirazu to sit on the couch, so he asked his mentor with his eyes if it was okay to take the laptop, picked it up from Sasaki’s lap, and set it on the coffee table in front of them.

“Me, too,” Mutsuki requested, walking to the other side of Haise and meeting his eyes before sitting beside him. Even though another barrier had been removed from Tooru’s kakuhou, he still was wearing the eyepatch? It worried Sasaki, because it meant that Tooru would always feel that one additional step away from normal.

Sasaki didn’t verbally protest, so Shirazu opened the laptop, re-started the video, turned the volume up, and then sat on the floor. Saiko tucked her legs under her on the couch to give him more space to lean against it. The video began, and it wasn’t what any of the Q’s were expecting at all. As it neared about a minute in, Kaneki pulled his knees up to his chin again. He would not cry. He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t.

Saiko felt tears prick at the corners of her own eyes, but it wasn’t exactly what the boy was saying that was affecting her so deeply; it was her mentor’s reaction to it. He must have been feeling an overwhelming amount of pain and guilt because he ate- no _every time_ he ate . . . Every time he had to eat, he must have felt _guilt_ that he _had to eat humans or ghouls_ \- creatures so _intelligent_ and capable of as much or more _compassion_ than him himself- just to _live_. To go on living meant that he had to eat a species of animal so advanced that they’d mourn their relative’s, friend’s, or lover’s death for potentially years.

“So, let’s eat the gnocchi? Only eat the potatoes and rice,” the mother gave permission to the boy that eating everything she prepared wasn’t necessary. He didn’t have to clean his plate. He didn’t have to eat the octopus.

The boy wanted to affirm, waving ha hand over his plate to indicate, “just the potatoes and the rice?”

“Octopus are animals,” the little three year old boy speaking a language entirely foreign to Shirazu was still somehow striking meaning and wisdom into something he took for granted every day. He watched the subtitles closely.

“They are all animals,” the boy shifted in his seat as he began to list.

“Fish are animals.” Mutsuki looked at his mentor who was currently watching just over his knees, eyes glued to the screen, moving only as they read the subtitles. Mutsuki was both in awe of the little boy and disturbed by the implications it held for Sasaki, especially if he thought too deeply on it- which he clearly was, because his eyes were glassy again. The Quinx looked back to the video. What could he do? What could anyone really do?

“Octopus are animals,” the little boy’s voice was sickeningly sweet, but Urie didn’t find it any more irritating than the fact that they were still watching the video at all. Sasaki and Saiko were both on the verge of tears. Why did people watch videos like this anyway?

“Chicken are animals. Cows are animals. Pigs are animals. So, when we eat animals, they die!” Kaneki was not in a good place. He hadn’t been for some time. A lot had happened in these two weeks. But this- this child was pointing out the cruelty of eating animals when Kaneki himself ate-

“Why?” the boy’s brown eyes were not on his mother or his food, but rather, were staring somewhere unknown, trying to discover there the reason the world let these sorts of things happen- no, why the world _accepted_ these things as normal.

His mother’s tone had changed again, and it was clear, by her voice alone, that she was also deeply affected by his words, “So we can eat, love.”

Kaneki felt tears falling from his eyes again. Exactly. –But he wasn’t like the boy- not at all. He didn’t have a choice; he didn’t.

“I don’t like when they die,” the boy’s eyes were wide with sincerity and innocence as he shook his head again signaling that he’d found something again that was completely wrong with the world.

_I don’t like that they die, either._

Kaneki felt relief when the mother told the boy they wouldn’t eat them, the animals, anymore, but the boy kept going, “These animals, you gotta take care of them and not eat them.”

The grip on his heart was too strong, but he lifted his head to more clearly see the subtitles through his blurred vision from his tears.

“Why are you crying now?” the little boy asked his mother.

“It’s just that you touched my heart.”

“Did I do something beautiful?” the boy smiled.

“Ok, eat . . . and you don’t have to eat the octopus, okay?”

“Ok!”

The video ended, and no one said anything. The Quinx understood now why the video had upset their mentor, though none of them could really explain it properly.

“Maman, you can’t blame yourself for-“

Haise curled up immediately, pulling his legs closer, tucking his bare feet beneath his knees and burying his face in his knees to hide his embarrassment as the tears fell. It was something Saiko and Ginshi were most certainly familiar with, but it was something Tooru and Urie had only seen once. It annoyed Urie to no end. Seriously, how old was Sasaki? He was acting like a child when he did that.

“I’m okay; it’s just not easy. I told you this. All of you . . . just don’t understand,” when he lifted his head, he was smiling for them even though his cheeks were wet and pink.

His smile was convincing no one. 

“. . . . No, we don’t.” Shirazu finally admitted.

They had returned to the chateau after their operation. It would take a few weeks to adjust completely. Urie had come out of it fine; it would be the same for the other three, right? They all still had a choice, right?

Kaneki hoped so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the two weeks that Ginshi, Saiko, and Tooru are gone, so much happens! T-T Much pain. Please view the video I've referenced for this chapter if you can. Assume that when they were watching, the subtitles were in Japanese! :D
> 
>  
> 
> [The video~](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tQIMJ648qgg)
> 
> Thank you all, as always, for your support. I feel motivated to write knowing someone is eager to read. I'm sorry again that I didn't have a full chapter ready. T-T Thank you for your patience.


	7. Accusations - Dec 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place after the shower/bath scene in the wee hours of the morning.
> 
> Thank you all for your kind words. They are so motivating to me; I just want to pleeeaaase!

Haise had managed to finish bathing without disruption after lamenting the capture of Amon Koutaro to the others. Though not in so many words, the two Qs understood that their mentor was only concerned. It had nothing to do with completing the mission. It didn’t mean he was any less proud of them(not that that mattered to Urie). It only meant that there was a world that they didn’t see or understand quite yet and they were responsible for throwing Amon Koutaro into the proverbial hell of that world. Still, while Kuki tried to ignore this reality, Ginshi felt conflicted. On the one hand, the man was a murderer, and even if he had once been an investigator, he had killed people of his own accord. However, on the other hand, Amon was just like Sasaki in that neither of them asked to become ghouls. Like Sasaki, Amon had only attempted to make the most of what he’d become. He was only trying to find a place in a world where he no longer had one.

Haise was on the right floor of where the meeting would take place, but he was in the lounge making coffee, instead of in the actual lecture room assigned for the debriefing. He just wanted to be at home. He got cranky when he was tired, and if the meeting didn’t go by quickly, he would potentially say something he’d regret later. He was just about to head out and into the meeting room when Arima Kishou walked into the lounge, stopping when he saw Haise. It immediately alerted Haise that Arima had been looking for him.

Was he going to punish him for losing control?

“Arima.” Kaneki’s hair was still wet from the bath and the white, smooth strands laid flat around his head like it had years ago rather than curl slightly as it did now when his hair was dry. He didn’t realize he was cold, but he was shivering a little, even in his full uniform.

“Haise,” Arima noticed right away and his tone was admonishing, “You know better than to leave your hair wet when we’re nearing the middle of December. You’ll catch a cold.”

Wait. What? Surely he hadn’t come to find him just to pester him about taking care of himself. It was annoying. Was he not angry that he’d bitten Amon? Well, even if he was, he had to ask . . .

Haise shook the thought away by visibly shaking his head, “No, never mind that; I‘m glad you’re here. It’s about Amon.” Maybe Kaneki was shivering for a different reason.

Assuming Haise was going to bring up his loss of control, Arima pressed on, “You need to dry it; we still have fifteen minutes until the meeting. Did you need a hair dryer?” Arima realized this was not the ward Sasaki normally worked in, so he didn’t have a locker here. He also recognized that Haise was tired, which was something he knew how to manage, but saw it as unforgiveable anyway. He’d punish him later if he let his irritability show in the meeting.

“Stop mothering me for one second and listen-”

A little taken aback by the term, Arima just gave him a stone silent expression; he’d listen. Mothering? Is that what he was doing? Could Haise make his mind up already?

“There’s a doctor by the name of Doumeki Yuuki in Cochlea. He’s the one who did . . . He’s the one who-” Kaneki couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. He just couldn’t. It hurt too much. Perhaps he’d never be able to say it out loud, just like his experience with Yamori. It made it too real. It brought everything back. The _helplessness_. No fingers. No power. No hands. No feet. No choice. _No escape_.

“ _Haise_ ,” Arima’s voice was soft and his hand was on the other’s shoulder. He gave it a gentle squeeze in an attempt to comfort him because if the shivering wasn’t noticeable before, it was now. Haise had blanked out for a moment; it was like he wasn’t even in the room with Arima at all. When their eyes met, Arima let go. It was obvious that Sasaki was reliving his pain through his memories. It was a pain Kishou felt responsible for. A responsibility- a regret- he’d never forget. “You want me to make sure Amon Koutaro is safe?”

“Yes, please,” Kaneki’s voice was small. He was making another request from Arima. Was this the hundredth time? The thousandth? Still, things were a little different between them now, wasn’t it? He was nervous about making the request, but he didn’t think Arima would refuse it.

“Amon Koutaro is not only an enemy of the CCG, but also a traitor,” Arima’s voice lacked any connection to concern over the ex-investigator. Kaneki was overestimating the death god’s capabilities again.

Kaneki wasn’t looking Arima in the face. Instead, his eyes kept falling to his hands. His feet. His hands. _They’re still there._ His voice was small, but he seemed confident enough in his statement, “You believe the same as me. No one deserves that. Just- can’t you fix it? Can’t you stop it with just a phone call?”

“ . . . .” Arima was quiet, and Kaneki could tell it was only because he was silently thinking over his options. Apparently Arima didn’t quite have his weight in everything. There were some things he could not change within the CCG. It was hard to believe since, among the investigators, he was pretty much a living god. That was only in the realm of the investigators though. He didn’t control what happened in the Information Bureau or the Research Division or Cochlea. Maybe it just felt that way to Kaneki, because the death god had complete control over _him_. He spoke again, “I can’t protect him like I can you, but I can look in to this doctor, Doumeki, and file a report. It would mean you would need to-”

“That’s fine.” Kaneki cut him off. No amount of paperwork would keep him from trying to do something for Amon-no, from trying to do something for anyone in this position. Doumeki was a demon wearing the flesh of a human. Why hadn’t he done anything earlier?

**_You wanted to eat him yourself._ **

No, he couldn’t do that, even if, for perhaps the third time in his life, he agreed with Rize.

“Good then, now go dry your hair.” Arima knew he might be pushing buttons, but Haise knew better.

“ . . . . ” Haise lifted the coffee cup to his lips and took a sip, looking at his mentor over the edge of the cup. Seriously?

“You will have mission reports to write and fill out; you can’t afford to get sick.”

“ . . . .”That edge that used to be in Arima’s voice back when he was training with him over a year ago . . . It wasn’t there anymore, was it? How long had it been gone?

“It’s also entirely unprofessional to show to a meeting with wet hair.”

Kaneki turned on his heel, coffee in hand, and made for the locker room. He wanted to argue with Arima, because, gods, it wasn’t a big deal, but he knew better. He recognized how things had changed again. In the past, before he’d regained his memories, he’d have gone to dry his hair immediately. No, likely, he would have considered it even prior to leaving the locker room because that was how aware he’d been of Arima’s eyes every moment of his life; he’d always been attempting perfection back then- always trying to meet Arima’s expectations.

He would be lying if he said it didn’t please him when Arima was proud of him, but he certainly no longer felt the need to go out of his way to do so. Something had certainly changed between them, though; that much was certain. What exactly was the cause? Had it really been that night? The night Arima had actually apologized?

<><><><><><><><><> 

Everyone was situated in the smaller lecture hall- everyone but Akira Mado. It was expected. It was excused. Haise had made it to the meeting on time, because when you trained under Arima Kishou, you learned how to do pretty much anything in an impossibly short amount of time. It had taken him just three minutes to use the elevator there and back. That had left him seven minutes to do his hair. He joined his squad off to the right side of the meeting room towards the back. All of them seemed too tired to pay attention to what was actually going on, and Kaneki found it endearing but didn’t show it on his face as he was presently eyeing them a silent threat to stay awake. He was glad they were safe.

“With everyone here, the meeting will commence,” Matsuri Washuu began and immediately went over the basic facts of the mission summarizing what had happened. It seemed like everything was about ready to wrap up when Washuu pulled Haise out of his disinterested daze with, “First Class Sasaki Haise, it has been noted that your hypothesis concerning former investigator Amon Koutaro was correct in regards to the ghoul, Samurai. You will undergo a temporary investigation concerning your very particular knowledge regarding a ghoul that aligns itself with the rouge group, Aogiri Tree.”

Haise straightened immediately. He had been mentally preparing himself for this, but he never thought they’d go so far as to investigate him. Question him, yes, but an investigation meant interrogation, surveillance, background checks- this was ridiculous. The CCG _owned_ him; what was the point?!

But before he could protest, a man’s voice spoke up and accused Sasaki outright, “You _knew_ it would be Amon Koutaro.” It took a second for Sasaki to locate the owner of the voice. He’d never met the man before, but he’d seen him before the operation with- Akira.

_She’s here. She actually came._

When had she come in? She was sitting right beside him- her face a dispassionate mask of indifference.

Haise stood, too tired and irritable to know better than to try and defend himself- especially in this situation where the odds were already greatly stacked against him, “That’s not true.”

The man was a brunette with pretty brown eyes that smiled and shaggy hair that flipped and turned. If he was seated with Akira than that must have meant he was with the S3 unit, “You work with Aogiri.”

Kaneki cracked a finger and shot daggers in the man’s direction, “That couldn’t be anymore wrong. I _hate_ Aogiri.” The half-ghoul had taken the bait. Granted, there were a lot of things he didn’t know about Aogiri Tree, but, suffice to say, if Kanou worked with them, and if they were responsible for that Takizawa guy and Amon, well, then he certainly didn’t trust them even if Hinami and Ayato was aligned with them. Aogiri clearly had an agenda, and they would use and abuse any they could to achieve it. Kaneki felt a headache coming on.

“Iitoki, your accusations are out of line.”

Haise could only stare. It had not been Arima or any of the Qs that spoke in his defense; it was Akira.

_Iitoki?_

Who was this guy and why did he care? Had Akira said something? No, she didn’t need to say anything for him to earn this treatment; his reputation alone- no, his being a half-ghoul was enough to earn this treatment from anyone. Besides, even if she was merely correcting a subordinate, it was still an action in Kaenki’s defense as well. She saw now that Kaneki hadn’t killed him . . . but she also saw now that Kaneki had predicted he’d become a half-ghoul.

Nothing could be simple in his life, could it? Nothing could ever be easy.

“It’s not like we aren’t all thinking it, right?” The S3 member with the shaggy hair grinned, “Enlighten us.”

“I explained all of this before.” Kaneki’s tone was cold, and he noticed his team shift uncomfortably. They’d never witnessed the blatant bullying that went on towards Haise within the CCG, because, usually, it never occurred in their presence. It was a ‘not in front of the kids’ mentality most of the experienced investigators held. Either they were too tired to care, they no longer saw the Quinx as a group that needed their ears covered, or this chance to attack Sasaki was too good to pass up. Perhaps it was a combination of all three.

Ui, who had been on the squad with Arima, chimed in then with a neutral expression and tone, “I don’t believe he works with them. He did bite the Samurai, after all?” He let his words hang in the air. It was strange how different he was when Arima was around.

“He what?” It was Washuu this time. He looked altogether displeased.

Haise suddenly felt like he was merely a freak show that was present for so much gossip and trivial drama. It was feeling more-so annoying than actually offensive by this point. Sure, he couldn’t tell if Ui was trying to help or hurt him with the comment, but regardless, he wished he wasn’t so often the topic of conversation.

Ui gestured to himself, Arima, and the third person who made up their squad for the Samurai operation, “We were there to witness it. He bit the Samurai- took a chunk out of his shoulder if I remember correctly.”

Sasaki was actually prepared for this conversation, because when one was subject to the sort of treatment he was, you simply practiced conversations in dealing with prejudice, “Yes, I did. I did so to increase my own chance of survival. Prior to biting him, I had suffered an incredible amount of damage from Samurai’s ukaku. I had many internal injuries. I bit him in a place I knew would not affect his own chances of survival so that I could improve my regenerative abilities and stay alive. I was suffering internal bleeding. I had to make a split second decision in the best interests of the mission objective. I’ll shoulder the burden for whatever punishment is necessary.” Puns made Haise feel better if nothing else.

Iitoki, the S3 member with the smiling eyes, actually guffawed, “You lost control is what-”

“Have you ever suffered a punctured lung?” Haise’s voice was sharp. He was incredibly irritated by now at this complete stranger, and he was realizing too late that this was just a show for him.

“Well, no.”

“It leaves you breathless.”

Iitoki was too confused to respond.

After a beat, Marude picked up where he left off, “First Class, Sasaki Haise, you are to return tomorrow to the 20th Ward for a formal interrogation.”

Kaneki was already irritable from the lack of sleep. He was already stressed over what may or may not happen to Amon due to his capturing him. On top of that, these people were showing nothing but mistrust when himself and his squad had just _completed the whole mission on their own_! “Why? I have met Amon Koutaro three times, and we barely exchanged words! Shouldn’t you be asking _him_ questions regarding Aogiri Tree? Aren’t all of you more familiar with him?”

_Clearly, you don’t trust me at all. Just ask Amon yourself if I have anything to do with Aogiri!_

“Samurai clearly has alliances with Aogiri Tree,” Washuu was not using Amon’s given name and was only identifying him as a ghoul now.

“What?! So, you’re all just going to forget that he was human once? That he worked with all of you? That he fought alongside you? You-”

“Enough, Haise,” and Arima stood.

When he did, Haise backed down immediately- his anger extinguished suddenly. He didn’t check how Akira was feeling, because he was too consumed with fear for himself to think of anything else. He didn’t look at anyone, and as if he were trained, he stared at the table in front of him. He’d messed up.

_I’m going to be punished. I’m going to go back to Cochlea. I’m going to- They’ll take away-_

He felt a small hand on his right arm and it traveled down to grip his hand. He didn’t look, but he knew it was Saiko’s. She was so sweet- always trying to be there for him. Arima wouldn’t do _that_ in front of her, would he? He wouldn’t do _that_ in front of the Quinx, would he? No, he wouldn’t. He wasn’t so out of turn this time. He didn’t deserve-

Washuu observed Sasaki, but he had no problem addressing the unprofessional behavior, “You’d do better to keep your dog on a tighter leash.”

Arima, still standing, met Matsuri Washuu’s eyes, “I am responsible for Sasaki. I’ll carry the investigation out myself.”

Washuu’s expression was blank and it did not change, “I’ll carry it out personally. One can’t be swayed by personal bias in these matters.”

Haise’s head shot up at the comment.

_What?_

He watched Arima carefully. He’d never heard anyone speak to him that way. The air was frigid, and everyone held their breath aside from Washuu and Arima. Arima said everything with his expression, his eyes never leaving Matsuri’s own.

“Special Class Arima, when one adopts a mutt, you can’t help but feel sorry for it. I’ll handle the matter.”

Arima said nothing. Unlike Haise, he knew how to pick his battles. Matsuri’s choice of words had just painted him as immature and Arima didn’t need to look around the room to see that a majority of the higher-ranked investigators would agree. Of course, the CCG was not high school, and this was not a popularity contest, but respect went a long way. By not responding to the comment, Arima had won.

Washuu didn’t see it that way, but he went on with the meeting, “All reports are due within forty-eight hours.”

He looked around the room before going on, “Any questions?”

There were none. Everyone was ready to go home, and after the exchange between Washuu and Arima, no one dared say another word.

“You’re dismissed.”

As the lot of investigators began to gather their things to go home, small murmurs of conversation here and there, one of the squad members shouted, “So, party Friday night?”

One of the S3 members, a man with black hair and kind eyes -the one who didn’t seem to have a problem with Haise, responded immediately, “Yeah! It’s not every day you pull off a mission without any casualties; we didn’t even evacuate. We should celebrate!”

Another member of one of the other squads piped in, “Hiro, you look for any reason you can to celebrate.”

Hiro, the S3 member with the kind eyes, responded, “So, it’ll be fun, besides, we never see people from other wards.”

Hanbee spoke to Suzuya in their own private conversation, “Why not join them for the party, Suzuya-san?”

Juuzou’s lips were in a thin line, and his eyes were half-lidded in indignation. He hadn’t like the way those people had treated Sasaki or what they’d said about him, but he had to keep running through his mantra to compose himself- _what would Shinohara do?_

After a beat, he registered Hanbee’s words and put his hands behind his head, fingers laced together as he walked. He made a hum of approval and even smiled a little. It could be fun . . . going out with Haise.

“I agree; let’s celebrate Friday night. Whaddaya say, First Class Sasaki?” It was someone Sasaki had not met before who was on another squad.

“Ah, Sasaki is fine,” Haise wanted to run out the door and never look back, but his squad was being invited as well.

“ . . . So?” Hiro was waiting for an answer.

He wasn’t going to agree, but he would offer, “It needs to be an izakaya, not a bar. Some of us are still not of age.” He didn’t bother gesturing towards the Qs- surely it was obvious? Though, Sasaki would likely see them as children forever.

“Oh, ok, right, yeah, I know a good place with great food. The nomihoudai selection is well-rounded.”

“Alright, party time!” Shirazu somehow still had the energy to do a little dance. It made Sasaki realize this was the _first_ time himself or the Quinx had been asked out for drinks.

“Friday?” Kaneki questioned.

“Yes, you’ll be coming right? It’s for you, too, you know?” Hiro seemed to be the one who initiated these sorts of things, because he was doing all of the talking and planning. With how spontaneous this was; it was a bit impressive. But really? After what had just happened, they were inviting himself and the Qs out for drinks and food? This was too bizarre.

“Oh, I hardly did anything. The other four did all of-“

“It’s for your squad, Haise,” Arima was behind him, and it made Sasaki tense up suddenly. How long had he been standing there? More importantly, how was Arima going to punish him for his previous outburst this time?

Going to the party was a matter of obligation. This was how the Japanese workforce operated. “You’re right, Arima-san; the same squad that you also mentor.” Obligation.

Arima picked up immediately on what Haise was trying to do. He could take the challenge. “I’ll check my schedule.”

“Of course.” _You should do that._ Sasaki was smiling through clenched teeth. If he had to go, then so did Arima. He wasn’t going to participate in this mess alone.

“Well, then, we expect to see both of you there,” Hiro was waving as he left, immediately turning to some of the other squad members from various squads about the party.

<><><><><><><><><><> 

Everyone had cleared out. Haise and Arima were the only two left. Arima had his laptop open as he had during most of the debriefing, “I checked on the database and Doumeki Yuuki is no longer working at Cochlea.”

“What?” Kaneki’s immediate thought was that the man had been fired. He _hoped_ the man had been fired. He’d admit only to himself that _dead_ would be better, though.

“It says he is working in the research division, but he isn’t assigned to any department.”

He was still working under the CCG? -But to be in the research divison without a specialty? Kaneki attempted to look over Arima’s shoulder to his computer screen, but there was nothing there that Arima wasn’t already telling him, “What does that mean?”

“ . . . . . .” He didn’t have an answer.

“Then, it could be anything?”

“Yes.”

“We-” No, no no no no. _They_ didn’t have to do anything. It was Kaneki. _Kaneki_ needed to stop him. He needed to _kill him_. It was a relief that he was no longer there in Cochlea performing experiments on prisoners, but he could potentially do more damage in the Research Division.

“We?”

“Nothing.”

“Haise.”

That _tone_ from Arima was becoming rather familiar to Haise, “I’m just confused and tired.”

“Go home,” Arima said simply, closing his laptop.

“Yes.”

“We’ll discuss your behavior after Washuu is done with you tomorrow.” When Kaneki said nothing, Arima went on, “Your squad was watching you the whole time.”

“Yes, sir,” Sasaki was clearly nervous.

Arima pretended not to notice, “You have the car?”

“Yes, the kids and I will be fine. Good night."

“Tomorrow. . .  And, Friday.”

“Yes, sir,” and Kaneki was gone. It wouldn’t be bad; it wouldn’t. The interrogation would probably be worse, really. He just needed to calm down. He just needed to get back to the chateau. He just needed to go back to thinking and feeling nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope it's okay that I add new characters here and there; they're mainly just for plot purposes. T-T I just make them up so I can use them. Yeah . . .
> 
> This chapter took forever to write; I hope it isn't too ooc. T-T I wanted to show that Arima and Haise's relationship has changed, but Haise is still scared of him when he feels he's done something wrong. Yeaaahhh~


	8. Sip for the Soul - Dec 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of you donated to Ao3, please request a drabble from me~ Thank you for keeping the site functioning!
> 
> I tried to do Mutsuki's POV, and I kinda think of him as a two-sided person who can be fake at some times, so he may sound kind of dark in some places. He cares for his teammates, but he's feeling left behind if that makes sense . . .  
> I took some creative liberties with Kamii now that we know the location of :re. :D Please forgive the length. Ikebukuro is my favorite place in Tokyo, so I got distracted.

Riding the Yamanote on a Monday morning, even at nearly nine in the morning, was not a good idea. It was packed, and the only words Sasaki had to offer for his lateness was that if they’d been on time, it would have been much worse. His nervous laughter was always a cue that he was uncomfortable, and by now, Mutsuki was usually able to gather that it meant he was lying. It was rare for their mentor to oversleep, but Mutsuki took that as a good sign, because it was no secret to any of Qs that Sasaki had nightmares that rarely let him have a full night’s sleep anyway. Currently, Saiko was seated on the end and the other four were crammed in front of her and near the doors. It meant that at every stop, Haise had to get off to let people off and then get back on again. From Haise’s expression, Tooru could tell that he was already either berating himself or making plans on how to do things better the next time. That’s when Tooru noticed it again. Sasaki was clenching and unclenching his hand as if they were cramping. He’d done so at least four times this morning, and they’d only seen him at the station and here on the train about fifteen minutes. Something was certainly off this morning.

But it was too late to back out now without looking incredibly suspicious to everyone, so Mutsuki didn’t say anything- as usual. He noticed a lot of things around Sasaki. Actually, he noticed a lot of things about each of them. While it had gotten fairly easy to talk to Ginshi about pretty much anything, there were still small courtesies paid to Saiko, and there was still a wall between himself and Urie. Nevermind, Sasaki. Often, Tooru felt like Sasaki had sort of written him off. Not . . . in a terrible way, but not in a good way, either, but still; it wasn’t as if the green haired Quinx was making any sort of effort to fix it. One day . . .

Mutsuki’s eyes continued to travel. Saiko was playing a game on her DS. Urie was lost in his music. Shirazu was stealing nervous glances in Sasaki’s direction.

There, standing in the train somewhat squished between Shirazu and the seated Saiko, Mutsuki recalled the events of that morning. Mutsuki remembered waking up from a nightmare and walking out of his room somewhere around five in the morning to see Shirazu stepping out of Sasaki’s room with a worn expression and nervous eyes.

<><><><><><><><><><><> 

Immediately, Shirazu had come to his own defense, despite the fact that Mutsuki hadn’t said a word.

“His alarm was going off, so I went to shut it off!” he hadn’t yelled, but his speech had been quick as if the speed of his words meant the conversation would be over with sooner.

Mutsuki held zero suspicions of anything, and really had yet to even develop an opinion until his squad leader had spoken. It was true that Sasaki usually got up around this time on a normal work day, but there was no way he would today- especially if they would all be having breakfast at :re in three hours.

“O . . . kay,” and it was clear to Ginshi that he had failed at convincing Mutsuki of anything. In fact, it was clear that whatever reason Ginshi had for being in Sasaki’s room at this hour- that wasn’t it.

“It’s just that it had been going off for a while, you know, and- Sasan, he is just sleeping like a rock for some reason- and I-“

“Ginshi.” Mutsuki felt compelled to interrupt the nonsense.

“Uh, yeah?”

“You don’t have to tell me why,” and their eyes spoke words to one another that they had since learned during their training together. Spending as much time as they did together, it wasn’t any wonder that they were able to say so much with simple body language.

“ . . . Thanks.” _Sorry, Tooru._

Tooru returned to his original course of action- going to the kitchen for a glass of water, but before he made it down the stairs, he looked back at Ginshi, “Just tell me- is Sasan okay?”

Clearly, Ginshi couldn’t lie to Tooru. That much was already obvious. He didn’t even know why he’d tried. It must have been impulse. “No, he’s not.”

“I didn’t think so.”

Ginshi put his hand in his hair and wore an uncharacteristically somber expression.

“If it’s something you can’t handle, you have to tell someone.”

“You’re right.” The blonde bit his lip, “You’re always right.”

The green-haired Q blinked, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Just,- ask for help if you need it. We both know Sasaki won’t.”

“Yeah.”

“Goodnight.”

“Night.”

<><><><><><><><><><> 

He was worried now- not only for Sasaki, who was consistently on all of the Qs’ minds, but also for Ginshi, who was loyal to a fault. Most likely, whatever was going on, Ginshi knew, but Sasaki had asked him not to say anything.

It could be nothing, or it could be something terrible. Given that Tooru was nothing short of a worry-wart, he was convinced it was really bad. They would all be going in for the surgery soon. It would be only Sasaki and Urie in the chateau- for how long? Up to two weeks? This was bad.

_What could it possibly be? What’s wrong with Sasan?_

Tooru looked over towards their mentor. He was reading something on his phone. He seemed pretty interested in it. His eyes were scanning quickly. His brow was furrowed. His lips were pressed into a line.

“Ikebukuro. Ikebukuro.”

Sasaki looked up when the stop was announced, and their eyes met. He smiled gently, the same smile he often gave Tooru. It made Mutstuki wonder if Sasaki would ever look at him without thinking he needed to reassure him of something. Was he really so lacking in confidence? Was his concern really misplaced? Or was Sasaki just never going to see him as an adult- or, not even that- a capable investigator?

Everyone got off and headed for the West Exit- all but Saiko.

“Saiko; you’re going the wrong way.” Ginshi deadpanned.

“But it’s out the East Exit,” she whined, clearly having ulterior motives.

“Nothing is out the East Exit save for those shops you favor so much. Don’t wander off,” and the squad leader pulled her by the back of the collar to join them, much to the girl’s displeasure. She pouted as she straightened her coat.

_It’s kind of big on her now . . . ._

It was true; she’d lost weight- a substantial amount. That’s what happened when you went from barely moving every day to training day and night with someone like Urie. No, she even trained without him.

_I wonder if Sasan looks at her differently now . . ._

“We don’t have a lot of time before we need to be back, so let’s not waste any time, okay, Saiko?”

“Yes, Maman,” she continued to pout but bounced back in their direction. She always held a bit of excitement when arriving in Ikebukuro. Of course, it had nothing to do with the branch office of one of her favorite stores, or the special line of shops that only the most devoted fans frequented while others tried to ignore its existence.

It was clear to Mutsuki that she wanted to visit those shops desperately. You could remove the fandom from the fan, but never the fan from the fandom. Even if she didn’t partake in all that she had prior, she still kept up with what was and wasn’t available- Mutsuki still followed her amebo and twitter accounts.

They made their way out the West Exit, and Mutsuki felt himself relax in the cold air. The sun was out, which was nice, because it kept his face warm, but the wind was biting in bursts at various intervals and he never seemed to be quite ready for them when they did. The others were having the same problem.

“Which University is that?” Mutsuki looked at the red brick buildings that appeared out of place in their architecture in comparison to the typical multi-story buildings surrounding them.

“It’s Kamii,” Kaneki responded without even looking up.

“I never realized Kamii was so close.” Mutsuki admired the red bricks and winding paths, “It’s a really beautiful campus. It looks more European than Japanese.”

“I didn’t know you liked architecture, Mutsuki.”

“I mean, well-”

_No, that’s not it at all._

“Yeah, last time we took the Yurakucho line, because we were coming from work, so we never saw Kamii.”

_The truth is I just wanted to go to University- something like this place and not like the academy. At a big school like this, no one would know me. I’d have no past. I could start over._

The nostalgia was hitting Kaneki in waves. No, they weren’t walking on campus, just past it, and though there were a few blocks between their little group and the university, these were still streets Kaneki used to walk down with-

“Sasan?”

Sasaki put his hand to his chin as if contemplating a next move, “Yeah, I was just trying to remember which direction it was from here.”

“The coffee shop? It’s a little further,” Mutsuki could remember the street.

“Right. Lead the way then.”

When they arrived, the bell chiming softly to alert their arrival, Haise was relieved that it wasn’t at all crowded. It wasn’t a large café, so seating five in one place meant making some sort of accommodation somewhere. He was glad that they wouldn’t be inconveniencing anyone.

“Welcome!” came Touka’s voice as she entered from the back in the same apron she wore before with the same sweet smile on her face, “Oh-“ her eyes met with Sasaki’s, but they didn’t linger and soon jumped to Shirazu’s and then Tooru’s own. Something must have been off, because for a split second, her smile faltered, but it found its place quickly, “Welcome back!”

“Yes, wow, you remember us?” Shirazu looked impressed and also a little too pleased. She was really cute though. Mutsuki felt himself blush a little, because it made him happy as well to know that the three of them were memorable enough for her though it had been all of four months.

She smiled enthusiastically at Shirazu, “Yes! I try to remember all of our customers! Wow! So many today!” She was clearly aware that all of them were Investigators, but she appeared to be entirely fine with it.

“Yes, this is all of us- haha!” Sasaki had since taken on a bit of an awkward laugh and rise at the end of his sentences.

_That’s right. Sasan cried last time we came here. Is it possible that he knows her?_

Mutsuki bit his lip and looked at the floor. No, he was just jumping to conclusions, and way too fast, too.

“We have a spot for five by the organ. This way, please,” she led all of them the few steps to the table that was in the corner by a piano covered in books and trinkets.

Sasaki’s smile was too wide, “Thank you for accommodating us. We couldn’t forget the coffee here,” and his voice had risen slightly at the end. No, Tooru wasn’t imagining things, but Sasaki being nervous could be attributed to any number of things. He really shouldn’t jump to conclusions like this.

“Not at all!” she smiled back assuredly and shared her smile with each of them as they took their seats careful not to let her eyes linger on Kaneki's.

When Tooru’s eyes met his teammates’, it was clear that the Q’s were simultaneously getting a mutual feeling from the exchange between Haise and the waitress. They were going back and forth between so many pleasantries that it was clear they were just speaking for the sake of keeping the other’s attention. Mutsuki caught on to it quickly- reading the air. Haise was trying to confirm something about her, and she was doing the same with him, but neither was able to see through the other. It was like a game the two were playing.

When they were all seated, the pretty waitress set menus in front of them and beamed, “Before anyone places an order, I wanted to share the specials we’re having at this time.”

“Ohhhh, seasonal?” Saiko was clearly interested. She also seemed to be eyeing the waitress closely as well, but there was a light pink on her cheeks. Tooru found it kind of cute. Were all of them falling for this girl? He looked at Urie.

Urie was performing his typical charade. Tooru wondered if any of the others had caught on to it. Urie would go about minding his own business and seemingly in his own world, but all the while, he’d steal glances in Saiko’s direction. It had been going on for a few weeks now. Tooru had caught on to it, because Tooru was always watching the people around him, but it was clear that Saiko hadn’t. He wondered if Urie himself were even aware that his eyes couldn’t stray from the blue-haired woman for more than a minute.

“Yes, we’re serving cioccolata densa. It’s an Italian hot chocolate that is very thick and creamy.”

“Oh yes, I’d like that,” Saiko nodded in approval.

Touka smiled with a grace that didn’t fit the age of her face and replied with a warm thank you.

“I’ll have a black coffee, please,” Sasaki spoke up.

“Yes.”

“An Americano for me, please,” Tooru offered, and was happy when their eyes met. Her kindness felt so genuine and it helped him relax.

“Yes,” Touka didn’t write anything down. She’d not only remember their drink orders. She’d remember their movements and facial expressions, and every physical attribute. They were with Kaneki, sure, but they were still doves.

“Oh, yes, a black coffee for me too, please,”

“Yes, thank you for coming back,” she replied to Shirazu much to his delight. His smile made him appear mentally absent. He was likely daydreaming of their wedding or the children they’d have or something equally ridiculous though a little endearing, at least in Tooru’s opinion. He appreciated that Shirazu always showed how he felt. It was the opposite of Urie, but for Mutsuki, he had little trouble understanding either of them. In the sense of rarely showing their true feelings, maybe, in that sense, Tooru himself could be called the opposite. There was actually little he shared with others.

Urie removed an earbud out of courtesy, “I’ll try your house blend- a flat latte.”

“Thank you! I’ll start those right away.”

Sasaki watched her go, and Tooru immediately looked to Shirazu, hoping he was seeing the same thing he was. Shirazu had certainly relaxed since he’d gotten there and exchanged words with the pretty waitress, but his eyes were again glued to Sasaki. If even a cute girl couldn’t keep Shirazu’s concern at bay, something was definitely wrong. It was unsettling.

Sasaki looked to Saiko, who was sitting next to him, and nudged her shoulder a bit, “Are you going to order French toast?” He was smiling at her.

“They have French toast?” she opened the menu hurriedly and Urie and Shirazu followed suit.

This normal behavior felt nostalgic.

Tooru opened the menu as well with a blank expression. It was exhausting being with everyone at one time. He liked the quiet more. He liked when it was just him and Ginshi better. When everyone was out together and there were so many emotions flying around, it was hard to relax.

When the waitress returned with their drinks, a gasp escaped all of them but Urie. Saiko’s hot chocolate had foam on top that was shaped into a rabbit. With only two feet peeking over the edge of the mug and a head visible, the rabbit appeared as if it had fallen in the chocolate and was trying to escape. One of its ears was bent and the other stood straight up. Its mouth was small and its eyes were wide, drawn on with what looked like the chocolate from the drink. She wasn’t kidding about it being thick, but still- the art was impressive- even Urie had to admit so with disinterested eyes as he nodded in agreement at Saiko’s response.

Saiko all but exploded, whipping her phone out immediately to update her Twitter and amebo accounts, “Ahh! It’s so cute! It’s a rabbit! It’s so cute! What a cute bunny! You made this?”

Touka was smiling when she nodded, “I’m glad you like it.” She was used to getting squeals of glee followed by many _“Cute!”_ s from girls, but none of them held this much excitement. Kaneki had people like this around him now?

At that, Kaneki couldn’t help but look at her skeptically, “Really?” his expression was one of skepticism, but his eyes were wide with wonder. She had changed enough that she had the patience for things like these?

Instead of getting angry at his apparent lack of confidence in her capabilities, she gaped at him as if in shock. Did he remember? Their eyes met. She blushed. Sasaki quickly looked away.

Urie had been too busy watching Saiko, and Ginshi had been busy being impressed with the art himself. Only Mutsuki had seen it. Now, he was sure. He wasn’t jumping to conclusions at all.

_They definitely know each other._

To save the situation, he spoke up, “Um, Miss?”

She snapped out of it, and for reasons she couldn’t place, she spoke up suddenly with her name. It wasn’t necessary or even customary for waitresses in Japan to give their names, and she rarely did so herself, but maybe after the comment she’d just heard, she felt like she wanted to, “My name is Touka. Pleased to make your acquaintance. Did you have any questions about the menu?”

Mutsuki didn’t expect to get her name and was flustered for a second, “Yes. I mean- no. Touka-san, ah- nice to meet you. May I have the toast with fruit, please?”

“Of course,” and the exchange was over as she took Tooru’s menu with a reassuring smile and went around the table to take everyone else’s order.

The scene was over quickly, and soon enough Haise began the meeting, this time in full focus, and went over the failures and successes of the prior operation in a hushed tone.

A good half hour later, Saiko leaned back in her chair and stretched, “Mamannn,” she spoke in her lazy drawl, “we’ll come here again, won’t we?”

Sasaki smiled warmly at her, and it made Tooru happy to see it, because it looked genuine, “Yes, we can do that. You liked it that much?”

“Fluffiest French toast ever,” was her response.

“The bread here is really good,” Tooru offered.

Shirazu added, “Seriously, I wonder if they bake it in house, because damn- it’s-”

“I don’t think they do,” Sasaki replied.

“Why’s that?” Urie looked suspicious. Had he finally caught on?

It was Sasaki’s turn to be flustered, “Just well, it’s really time-consuming and difficult to make bread. If they’re a coffee shop and not a bakery, then they’d never have the time to bake it.” He’d saved himself from Urie, but Tooru wasn’t convinced. Still, Tooru couldn’t place why knowing something as small as that needed to be kept a secret.

Before anyone could question him, he spoke up, “There was one last issue I wanted to discuss with you four. I assigned all of you to teams three months ago, and, from the progress I’ve seen in each of you, the teams have been a success. However, you’re a group of four- not two pairs, so, as an assignment before you leave to meet with Shiba, you’re all to complete peer reviews of your partner. When you return from the . . .”

“Surgery,” Tooru said for him.

“Yes, then I will be evaluating each of you individually and putting you into new pairs. Understood?”

Shirazu beamed, “We get to train with you one-on-one again?”

Sasaki didn’t understand the appeal, “Yes, for a day.”

“Awesome!” Shirazu responded with a toothy grin. Sasaki didn’t understand the enthusiasm, but Tooru did. Shirazu had been wanting to test his strength, and what better way than with the person you looked up to? Urie was likely pleased for the same reason. If it was his goal to surpass Sasaki, then he’d see how much closer he was to it.

<><><><><><><><><><><> 

When no one asked any questions, Sasaki encouraged them to finish their food so he could check out the books around the room. There were a few more people in the shop now, but it wasn’t so many that it could be called busy.

Haise’s eyes wandered to the books on the back wall shelf. There was a set among the antiques that looked old and worn. He read over the titles and spoke aloud to himself, “These are a collection, aren’t they?  . . . . . Oh- Austen mentions them.”

“That’s right.” Touka was behind him and he nearly jumped out of his skin when she appeared.

“Haha!” he tried to laugh his nervousness off, but it was clear that he was forcing himself, “She mentions them as being good recommendations for horror, but some of these are pretty awful.”

“You’ve read _Northanger Abbey_?” Touka was trying to read him. Did he know her?

“Yes, a while ago- but- I’m not a fan of Jane Austen. I’ve read most of her major works, but Au sten don’t understand the appeal,” he chuckled and held out a hand, “You introduced yourself as Touka, right? Nice to meet you. Sasaki Haise.”

Touka’s smile twitched at the homophonic pun Kaneki had just attempted, but she took his hand and responded politely to his introduction. “Nice to meet you, Sasaki.” He had a new name. He had a new appearance. He had a new job. He had a new life. He had since made new memories, too, hadn’t he? With those waiting for him at the table?

“Are you, Touka-san? I mean- are you a fan of Jane Austen?”

“No,” she hadn’t come out of her thoughts just yet and had responded in her typical voice curtly rather than her smooth customer service voice. She hoped he didn’t notice.

“Somehow, I didn’t think so.” Sasaki smiled, because her tone, even in just that one word, was nostalgic, “But this is the collection of the seven gothic novels mentioned in _Northanger Abbey_. Are you secretly into nec romancers?” _Necromancer of the Black Forest_ was carefully displayed between _Midnight Bell_ and _Orphan of the Rhine_.

Touka actually rolled her eyes. If his hair wasn’t any indication, his teasing was. He was acting nervous, true, but he also seemed familiar with her, “A . . . friend gave these to the shop when it opened. They’re all first editions.”

Kaneki had noticed that she had hesitated to use the title of ‘friend’ for this person, but he was too busy being excited over first editions to say anything, “What? Really?”

“Yes.”

Kaneki grabbed the copy of _Necromancer of the Black Forest_ and opened it to see it was in Japanese.

He flipped to the publisher’s page and read quickly. It was true. These were first editions of the Japanese translations. These couldn’t be found at some random Book-off. These were antiques. Treasures.

“We have other first editions. You like Nathaniel Hawthorne or Henry James?”

“Yes. Very much so. You have a lot of gothic literature here.”

“It goes with the theme.” She had relaxed, “We have _The House of Seven Gables_ and _The Turn of the Screw_ here some-“

“Really?!” Sasaki couldn’t have hidden his excitement if he’d tried.

Touka smiled genuinely. That wasn’t new. Kaneki had a new name, but he still enjoyed the same things. He still was hopelessly obsessed with books. “Yes.”

“That’s so hard to find! Do you have Japanese gothic literature, too?” He preferred Japanese literature to American literature, but he’d try anything once . . . . in terms of authors or books.

“Yes. We have _The Chrysanthemum Vow_ and _Rappacini’s Daughter_ as well as-”

Kaneki found the Henry James novel and silently felt butterflies in his stomach. He’d read about it, but had never actually read it himself.

Touka was catching on, “It’s rare?”

“Yes, I’ve never seen it in a book store, because it was just never very popular. Hawthorne did other famous novels like _Scarlet Letter_ , so _The House of Seven Gables_ is fairly accessible, but James had a flat career. It’s been out of print for years.”

“Take it,” Touka said simply.

“What? No.” and Kaneki instantly dismissed the thought.

“Have you read it?”

He knew where this was going, so he had to protest, “No- I-“

“Take it.”

He knew better than to argue with Touka, but this book could be worth so much money- 10,000 Yen at least. “I can’t do that. It’s so old and rare; it must be worth-“

She rolled her eyes.“Then bring it back. But go ahead and take it and read it for now.” There, she’d compromised.

“It’s okay? I mean I-“

“Really. Take it.”

“I-” and he paused, thinking over her offer, “. . .Thank you.”

“Of course,” and she smiled to herself, knowing that their mutual _friend_ had bought them for him to have anyway. Touka mentally kicked herself. She’d not spoken to him in two years. He would probably want to know Kaneki was alive.

“I’ll leave it on the shelf and get it on my way out,” Sasaki pulled her from her thoughts, “Thank you.”

She smiled and he went back to the table and she to work.

<><><><><><><><><><> 

Mutsuki had watched the whole exchange, and though he couldn’t tell what they were speaking about, he could see both of them visibly relax at one point. Haise hadn’t been relaxed all day, so it was a relief to see.

When he returned, they all made small talk until the check was paid. Normal. Mutsuki had felt normal with all of them together for the first time in three months. “We should do this again.”

“Yeah, I like it here,” Ginshi agreed.

“French toast,” was Saiko’s statement of approval.

Urie merely nodded.

“We used to visit different shops each week. You want to come back to this one?” Sasaki looked surprised.

Ginshi was blunt, “The other shops don’t have Touka-chan.”

As was Saiko, “Or cute bunnies made out of foam.”

“When you all get back, then,” Haise kept avoiding the word _surgery_ , and it was noticed by all of them.

<><><><><><><><><><><> 

Once they were all outside, Haise felt around his coat to indicate he was missing something. “Oh, I left my book! Sorry!” Before the Q’s could say anything, Sasaki slipped back through the door. He had to speak to her. He had left the book on the shelf for a reason, so it was now or never.

Touka looked up and said, “Welcome back, Sasaki.” It wasn’t a coincidence that in Japanese the phrase she used could also be translated as _‘welcome home’_.

“Kirishima, please, if you have a moment, I had a question about this painting I noticed in the hallway here,” he took her hand and led her down the short hallway to where the bathrooms were located. Touka was in shock. He’d just used her last name as if to be polite, but she had never given it to him. _Sasaki_ didn’t know it.

“Sasaki . . . are you okay? You-?”

And then he embraced her, speaking quickly before she slapped him across the face or kicked him to the floor or- did whatever other crazy punishment he could remember from his past if he had suddenly made such an intimate gesture towards her without permission, “Touka.”

She went stiff. The tone in his voice was everything. His breath was on her ear and she nearly squirmed from the heat. She could feel so many emotions suddenly welling inside her that she was having too hard of a time to get out. She could remember the first time Sasaki had come into :re. It was like that- the way he’d cried. She wanted to cry, because her body was remembering all kinds of things that her heart wasn’t ready to process again. “Kaneki?” She had been suspicious since the moment he’d walked in. His hair was white again, like she’d seen that night and that day on the bridge.

“Touka, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I remember all of it now. My memories; they’ve been gone for years, but I remember now, and I’m so sorry for everything. I’m so glad you’re safe. I can’t-I can’t leave the CCG, but I want you to know that I will do everything in my power to protect you from it. –And Yomo, too. I promise. Touka, I-“

“Kaneki-” he felt moisture on his jacket. She was crying. This was too much. Why were his words so kind? This wasn’t the same Kaneki she’d met with the white hair- cold and attempting any distance possible. But-but it wasn’t the nervous and bitterly sweet one she’d worked with at Anteiku, either.

“Oh no, please don’t cry, Touka,” and Haise copied the motion that Arima had used, wiping her tears away with his thumbs.

Touka was in shock from so many things already, and the physical affection was just making it worse, “You’re okay?” She had to hear it. She’d hoped, wished, prayed-

“Yes,” he said with every hope that it came out confident and convincing.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly, almost timidly, because part of him was worried he wasn’t allowed to ask questions like that anymore.

“I’m okay.” She answered quickly, in a sigh, because _that tone_ he had taken was so like the Kaneki she knew so many years ago at Anteiku, and she just missed it. She missed him. She’d missed him all this time.

“Good.” He mirrored her sigh. “Good.” He smiled, genuinely, happy that he could speak to her however briefly. “I have to go. I will try to meet you again, Touka, please- Be safe,” and he kissed her cheek.

After meeting her eyes briefly with the same kind smile he’d shown her years ago, he let her go and he was gone, grabbing _The Turn of the Screw_ on the way out. She ducked immediately into the girls’ bathroom. She was sure Yomo had seen her go into the hallway with Kaneki. She knew he’d figure it out. She collapsed to the floor, sobbing, both out of relief and pain. Why hadn’t she decked him when she’d had the chance? She smiled through her tears. God, he was okay, and in the end, that’s all that really mattered.

Outside, Haise was mentally beating himself. He had kissed her cheek. Was that okay? He’d never done anything even remotely like that in the past. Was it weird that he felt affectionate? Affection at all was weird on Kaneki’s part. Well, maybe he had become more familiar with it during his time as Haise, but still- He hoped it hadn’t upset her.

He had the book he’d gone in to retrieve in his hands when he had walked back outside. What he hadn’t accounted for was that it looked like he’d spilled water on the front of his jacket- not a lot, but enough to be noticeable. All of the Qs saw it and exchanged looks. They’d discuss it later amongst each other, but none of them felt up to forcing Sasaki to explain himself now.

“We’d better book it if we’re going to make it to headquarters on time!” Sasaki held the book up to indicate his awful pun before tucking it inside his jacket and heading in the direction of the station.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :re is based off of a coffee shop called museum. Please read more and squeal with me at [Kotaku.](http://kotaku.com/tokyo-ghouls-re-cafe-is-a-real-place-and-you-can-visit-1699904341)
> 
> Feedback is food for the soul. Thank you all for your kindness!
> 
> Oh, and just a note, Touka isn't necessarily familiar with all of those books, she just knows the titles and authors 'cause she sees them everyday at work. /nod


	9. Escape - Dec 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place directly after chapter 5.
> 
> Warning! Watch out!! Lots of angst and Shirazu headcanon ahead!! And drugs. And being bad. And tears.  
> . . . and Hide. Oh, I'm a tease. It's only little!Hide.

As soon as Shirazu heard the newly familiar sound of a flicked syringe, he reached into his back pocket to pull out his wallet.

_I can’t trust someone who’s addicted to escaping their problems, Sasan- especially someone who won’t stop._

Another flicked syringe.

_Shit. Shit. How many times has it been just in these past two weeks . . . when I’m actually awake?_

He pulled out his CCG card key, folded his wallet, and tucked it the back pocket of his pants that he’d retrieved it from. He had already tried this a few times on his own door to be sure that it worked. He could manage it relatively easily now. He was just glad that the chateau, though furnished with everything modern, was an old enough building to have the old and simple doors that didn’t have bolts as locks. If only he would have learned to be more discreet before he and Urie had broken Saiko’s door down.

A third flicked syringe.

_Shit. Last time was three or four?_

Shirazu, as gently as he could, wrapped a hand around the door knob. He slid the card into the crack between the door and the door frame just above the lock. He pressed forward, slid down and moved the card just as he’d practiced.

A click.

The Quinx turned the knob, and the lock popped, causing the pressure behind the door to disappear. Because Shirazu was leaning into it, he fell forward, but caught himself before actually making a fool of himself and falling face forward into the wood floor. His card had fallen, but he didn’t waste a second picking it up. He stumbled in, shut and locked the door behind him, and pressed his back to the door.

The room was pitch black.

“Sasan?”

<><><><><><><><><><><> 

Kaneki had definitely locked the door this time. He could feel something rising up in him. Fear. No, he didn’t want that emotion. He didn’t want any of them. He felt for the tiny glass bottle and put it in his left hand with his thumb over the top. With his right hand, he adjusted the syringe so that it was just over his thumb. He’d learned to do this in the dark even in the short time he’d made this an option for escaping his thoughts. He’d just remove his thumb, press the needle through, flip the bottle over, and pull to fill the syringe and-there. He’d need to get the air bubbles out. There was a flick, a squirt and-

Shirazu found the lamp light, and though it was turned down to light only the work on the desk, it was enough that he could see the figure in the bed. Haise was lying on top of his bed with little glass bottles and syringes around him, one syringe currently pressed to his forearm. His kakugan was out and his lips were turned in a frown.

Their eyes met- both pairs silently begging but for opposite outcomes.

_Please go away. Please leave. Leave me alone._

“Sasan, please, don’t do this-“

Too late.

Sasaki pressed the last dose inside, the RC suppressants flooding his veins like the sweet seduction of a favorite taste. Even when he wasn’t hungry, he just wanted to have it only to taste it- over and over again. Tasting would be nice. He hadn’t eaten since he’d bitten Amon, and before that- not for some time-Cochlea. He couldn’t remember ever feeling likening a love of taste to an addiction. Maybe it wasn’t uncommon for ghouls, though.

“Fuck-“ Ginshi was on his bed in a second, knocking away the needles and vials of what he assumed were the pure liquid form of RC suppressants. He pulled the one syringe out of his mentor’s hand and threw it on the ground. He scrambled around the other through the top of the comforter of the perfectly made bed to feel for any he couldn’t see- a knife. He grabbed the quinque knife and, in a moment of cautious clarity, put it in the back pocket of his pants rather than throwing it on the floor where it would definitely be loud enough for the others to hear and get worried over. It would be hell if the others knew this was going on- especially Saiko and Urie. At least Mutsuki could take it without responding with fists or tears.

At last, he turned to Sasaki who was wearing a navy t-shirt, loose-fitting gray pajama pants, and a blank expression. Shirazu realized he was breathing hard and running on adrenaline and anger, but he punched the man he respected more than his own father-no, that wasn’t really saying much, so, more than anyone- in the face anyway. He just needed to. Otherwise, he’d scream.

Kaneki fell back on the bed, his lip bleeding. It wasn’t healing. Still not. And-there it went. Kaneki stared at the ceiling. He should have taken more. He deserved the punch. He deserved anything Ginshi wanted to hit him with. He waited, unflinching. It didn’t really matter, did it?

-But nothing else came.

He thought of a tanka poem, “I eat a persimmon and a bell starts booming- Horyu-ji.”**

Ginshi understood none of it and took it as the suppressants messing with his mind, “Idiot. You told me to trust you.”

_I can have respect for you without trusting you, or I can trust you but not respect you. But either way- either way, the relationship is lost if one of those are missing, Sasan. And you- you were the person I respected and trusted the most._

Kaneki was glad his headache was gone, but was Ginshi actually . . . crying?

The blonde spoke again, “You, not five minutes ago, told me to _trust you_.”

Sasaki’s eyes were finally adjusted. He moved his eyes only and looked at his subordinate briefly, but when he didn’t like what he saw, he stared up at the ceiling again. Shirazu had an ugly face when he cried-an ugly face that made him feel guilty.

“I thought you were at least better than him. My old man-he- you know why money is so goddamn important to me?”

Kaneki was hearing words, but he wasn’t really processing them. He was hearing Ginshi’s sniffles, followed by silence, but it didn’t really feel real. It was as if it were something happening on the TV to someone he didn’t know or care about-someone so incredibly far away. _Not_ a person he’d lived with going on a year and a half soon. Not someone who admired and looked up to him. Not someone who’s trust he’d betrayed. Not someone he loved, cared for, wanted to protect- would give his life to protect-protect-protect.

“Shit- you’re fucked up. You can’t even answer me. Fuck, you’re-,” and there were tears in Ginshi’s eyes that refused to fall as he sat on the bed, watching Sasaki’s eyes stare blankly at the ceiling. He was angry for too many reasons. Sasaki was better than this bullshit. Sasaki wasn’t his father. Sasaki, the one he knew, and the one he’d grown to admire, he-he wouldn’t have done that right there in front of him in a blatant show of betrayal.

Kaneki wasn’t really paying attention. Instead, he was focusing on the fact that he had limbs. He did. –But moving them was strange. They were heavy, but they were _there_. He wiggled his fingers and toes. The RC suppressants had spread everywhere. He couldn’t move well, but he could still move his fingers and toes. They were _still there_.

“My father also has an _addiction_.” The word rolled off of Ginshi’s tongue accusingly, “Alcohol. Since my mother left, that’s all he’s done-drink. Is any of that in my file? How about the fact that though he’s their legal guardian, he doesn’t do shit for my siblings? Is that in there, too?” the bitter tone of betrayal was thick in his voice, “That they have nothing? That I can’t do shit for them, either, except send them money every month!?” No, he couldn’t yell or the other three would be in here in a hot minute, “Momoko? Mizuki? Haru? Are they in my file? Fifteen. Thirteen. Ten. Have you read about them? They have no one. They have no future unless _I’m_ providing it for them. All because we lost our father to fucking alcohol.” There was really just nothing to say for his mother. For all he knew, she left for the same reason. “Am I-“

Kaneki struggled, really struggled, to move into a sitting position. Clearly Ginshi was really upset. Kaneki wasn’t really thinking straight enough to consider what he’d done or even what Ginshi was saying. There was a chance that he wouldn’t even remember it later. So, not really able to come up with any sort of verbal response, Kaneki copied Arima’s actions. He reached and put a hand on Ginshi’s shoulder. He reached, and squeezed Ginshi’s left hand with his right. Like Arima did. Like he’d done when he’d cried. When Arima had done it, it had felt comforting to him. At the moment, he couldn’t really make out why Ginshi was upset, but anyone upset needed to be comforted. This was the way to do it, right? It was funny how he associated comfort with Arima and not his mother. At least Arima was strong, right?

Ginshi looked up at Kaneki, expression painfully hurt, eyes gleaming, mouth in a frown, “Am I going to lose you, too?” It was something Ginshi had always feared. Sasaki leaving. He had thought he’d be gone as soon as his memories were back. He’d never expected he’d lose him in this way instead.

Kaneki was too far gone to respond. He didn’t even feel upset over being unable to understand what Ginshi was saying though. He was in a room with a big puzzle on the floor. He knelt beside it, and realized the pieces were all the same color-red. When he picked one up and put it into the picture, it fit- every time. They were all the same. There was no bigger picture- simply a red floor. He felt something like relief. Relief that processing anything at all wasn’t necessary, because the fact was that none of it mattered at all. He still had hands, after all. And his hands could pick up as many puzzle pieces as he liked. And his feet could walk him around the room to place them anywhere he liked. What else mattered?

“He didn’t go through what you did, though.” Ginshi knocked Haise’s arm off his shoulder gently and removed his hand. Kaneki’s arm fell from the height unnaturally like dead weight. It unnerved Ginshi and he searched Kaneki’s eyes- one gray and one black and red. “Can you even hear anything I’m saying?”

Kaneki looked at him, and then looked away, and then looked back, “Yes.” He could hear just fine.

“-But you don’t understand?”

Kaneki wasn’t sure what the right response was to that question. It meant that if he picked up a puzzle piece, it might not fit correctly with all of the others. That was stressful.

“Nevermind.” Shirazu wanted to continue being angry, and he was, but- with the way Sasaki was right now, it didn’t matter what he said or felt; his mentor wouldn’t respond to it. He needed to stay with him, though. He needed to stay until he recovered.

_Shit. We’re supposed to go to :re tomorrow. Are you going to be okay by then?_

He found both of Sasaki’s hands and held his hands in his, noticing then how much smaller Sasaki’s were. He didn’t know what to do, so he just kept his hands there like that, because as long as they were in his hands, it meant they weren’t reaching for syringes or knives.

Kaneki was entirely withdrawn. His eyes were open, but they looked everywhere aside from Shirazu’s own. Shirazu was fine with it. He just began talking about the first thing that came to mind, because it meant that he wasn’t talking about things that he didn’t want to think about either, “Man, you missed this great prank the other day that Saiko set up to play on Kuki.”

And while Shirazu detailed just how complex and clever the blue-haired Quinx’s prank had been, Haise found himself thinking of other things.

Simple things.

Like how great it was that he had hands. He could do so many things with them. His hands could be held like they were now by Shirazu. He could use them to turn pages through books. He could also use them to cook food for the Qs. He could even use them to make coffee for Touka and Hinami-or spar with Tsukiyama and Banjou or- or play video games or records with Hide- or-

He could text Hide with them. He could write Hide letters. He could use his fingers to dial Hide’s number. He could poke Hide in class. He could bleach Hide’s hair. He could touch Hide. These hands could touch Hide, because he still had them- both his hands and Hide. Hide was alive . . . somewhere-

Was someone, somewhere, making Hide happy? Somewhere along the way, Kaneki had taken that happiness for granted. He had taken Hide for granted. He had gotten so confused and selfish that he’d neglected what was the most important part of his life.

Whoever was in Hide’s life now-they weren’t doing that to Hide, right?

Hide deserved so much more. The world. Every happiness. Peace. Warmth. Attention. Affection. Everything. Everything. Everything.

“Hide, what do you want to do in the future?” They were in middle school- thirteen. Their art class assignment felt ridiculous, but so was every other creative assignment. Kaneki was annoyed that his teachers thought ‘creativity’ was synonymous with ‘finding oneself’, and that by writing a poem or drawing a picture, their middle school angst would just wither away and die. Ridiculous.

“In the future?” Hide had the same assignment, so he shouldn’t be surprised by the question. Still, his brows furrowed a second before he smiled widely, “Silly question.”

“We’re supposed to paint our future selves,” Kaneki huffed a bit, having no problem in showing his annoyance but for Hide’s eyes only. During art class, they were often given permission to paint or draw outside, and Hide and Kaneki had gone to their favorite spot on the small middle school campus. It was a bench on the hill above the soccer field. It had the best shade and the fluffiest grass, too.

“Yeah, well, it’s easy,” Hide was facing Kaneki, his tone very matter-of-fact.

“No, it’s not,” Kaneki whined. He was allowed to be selfish sometimes, but only around Hide. Hide was the only one who spoiled him, after all.

“Yes, it is!” He insisted, smiling wide at his friend before sticking his tongue out and making a face.

“Well, then what did you paint?” Kaneki leaned over to look, but Hide pulled his white canvas close immediately.

“Show me yours first.”

“No- I-”

Hide laughed, “Then just tell me, what’s your job?”

“I don’t know.” Kaneki felt himself getting depressed. What could he possibly do in the future? There was nothing he liked doing save for reading. Or being with Hide. Maybe he could become a librarian.

Hide looked skeptical, “Okay, where do you live?”

“I don’t know,” he replied, softer this time. He couldn’t see himself anywhere outside of what he already knew. Hide would probably move away to America or even travel all over the world. Kaneki would just stay here. Librarians don’t make that much money, anyway, right? He could just travel through books anyway.

Hide was somehow still smiling. He was able to do that- remain a ray of hope even as Kaneki fell into the shadows, “Do you have a family?”

This was getting too depressing, though. “I don’t know. Let me see yours!” Kaneki all but pounced on his best friend.

But, lucky for Hide, Kaneki was little more than a twig, and Hide, who engaged in every sport available, was able to push him back, “No, hold on- let me- ugh- uh-There!” Hide had marked Kaneki’s painting in their struggle.

Kaneki looked horrified, but he couldn’t see the difference, “What did you do?”

Hide laughed in response, “Well, look!”

Kaneki studied his own boring painting. It had just been him wearing some kind of uniform and tie like a typical salaryman. His body floated in a white space without a floor or background or- “You put a smile?”

“Well, you know that much, don’t you?” Hide mirrored the now wide grin of the future Kaneki on the canvas.

“What?” Kaneki didn’t understand, once again, what his best friend was getting at. Hide operated on an entirely different logic separate from his that Kaneki would always be attempting to define. It was the secret to Hide’s smile. Kaneki was convinced he would never understand why he was always able to smile like that.

“In the future, you want to be happy, right?”

“Well-I” and suddenly, the clouds parted, as they always did in Hide’s presence, and Kaneki found himself laughing in response, “Yeah-,” he only laughed more, “You’re right. I want to be happy in the future.”

“Then you’re done!” Hide insisted triumphantly.

“Yeah!” Kaneki held it up above him and felt his concern about his long-off future melt away.

But then he remembered, “Wait, can I see yours now?”

“Well-“ Hide frowned, “You know I really suck at painting.”

“Just show me!” Kaneki was smiling, because he knew that the picture was sure to bring him even more laughter and Hide would understand and laugh with him.

“Okay! Okay, okay. Here.” Hide handed it to Kaneki, and Kaneki took it in his hands. And stared. And said nothing.

“I know; my painting is awful. You don’t have to rub it in, and it’s not like you didn’t know.” Hide was smiling in embarrassment.

“I don’t get it.”

In the painting was two very poorly drawn adult versions of both Hide and Kaneki. They were smiling in what may have either been a field of flowers or on top of a very decorative cake. There was also a four-legged creature, and judging by the ears- it was a dog.

“What’s your job, Hide?” Kaneki wouldn’t take his eyes from the painting.

“Well, making you laugh. See- you’re laughing. That’s why your mouth is open.” He responded as if the answer was really obvious.

It hadn’t been, not to Kaneki. “ . . . Where do you live?”

“Together, with you.” Again, Hide’s smile emitted only confidence. This information was fact. It was as obvious as the sun rising the next day.

“Do you have a family?”

“Well, we’re going to be best friends forever, and a best friend is like the same thing right? Maybe even better . . .” Hide finally looked a little skeptical, but then laughed a little, “Yeah, better.”

Kaneki couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Kaneki?”

Tears. He didn’t feel anything. At least, if he was, he didn’t know what the feeling was called. After his mother died, he had no one. Only Hide. And here was Hide, boisterously proclaiming that he would still be by his side many years from now- drawing a future in which he promised he wouldn’t leave him.

“Hey, wait, Kaneki, why are you crying? Hey! That’s not how it works! Stop that!” Hide, instead of attempting any sort of comfort, actually began shaking Kaneki like he was just broken and needed fixing and would be just fine after a good shake or two.

Of course, because Hide knew Kaneki better than anyone else on the planet, it worked. Kaneki narrowed his eyes in a mock annoyance, “You’re an idiot, Hide!” He was wiping his eyes, and as he did, his expression spread into a smile.

Hide pouted playfully, “I’m not the one who forgot the dog!”

“What? Hey!” The stronger of the two reclaimed his canvas, but then grabbed the other’s.

“Everything’s better with puppies!” He proclaimed as he went to work.

Kaneki realized then what Hide was doing; he was painting a puppy into Kaneki’s picture. “I’m going to get in trouble!” Painting someone else’s future was not part of the assignment.

“Are you making fun of my art skills again? It’s called abstract!” It looked more like a lion than a dog.

And then Kaneki reached across and began to paint over Hide’s drawing. He painted all over Hide’s canvas.

“Kaneki- what?” Hide wasn’t expecting that.

Kaneki kept painting, brush strokes harsh and wide, thick with pain and purpose.

“Why are you doing that?” He just watched.

When Kaneki finally let go, the painting was visible to Hide, and Kaneki, too, could see the full picture. The puppy was gone. Their smiling faces were gone. They no longer stood among flowers under a shining sun, because they were no longer in the picture at all.

Kaneki had colored the whole canvas red, “If we stay together-“

Hide looked astonished, not angry, “You’re wrong. We’re only weak when we’re apart. I can save you.” And suddenly Hide was 20 and wearing a CCG uniform and was smiling with shining eyes that deflected pain.

“You can’t. _I have to protect you_.” And Kaneki was a ghoul with a half-kakuja that held a single eye, his voice coming out monstrous and muffled.

Hide was unaffected by Kaneki’s appearance, but he looked at his painting with the expression of someone who’d lost everything.

When Kaneki woke up, he was shaking. The first thing he noticed was his hands. Not only were they there, but they were gripped tightly onto-

“Shirazu?”

Ginshi was awake. He knew little about the biology of ghouls or half-ghouls or the effects of RC suppressants because, truthfully, and this was affirmed in his test scores, he never paid attention in class. So, too worried Kaneki might not wake up- like taking the drugs would result in something similar to alcohol poisoning, he hadn’t slept a wink. “Yeah, you okay? You’ve been out for like five hours.”

“Just a nightmare.” Everything was. Well, most days. No, but not all the time.

That much had been obvious to Shirazu, but he supposed the vague question would be acknowledged with a vague answer. “You sobered up, yet?” He couldn’t help the term. Shirazu sat up and pulled Sasaki up, too. He wanted to talk to him.

Sasaki complied and cracked a few fingers as he righted himself, “I . . . I’m . . . yes, I-.” He’d been so selfish. He’d done something terrible to Shirazu. Why was he still here?

“Good. I’ve been thinking. I’ll make a deal with you.” Shirazu’s voice was soft in volume but firm in tone, and from the lamp light from the desk, Kaneki could make out his expression. He looked determined- frightfully so. Nothing would be keeping him from saying what needed to be said. He must have been thinking over the right course of action and the right words to say for the last five hours.

“What? Shirazu-” his previous words had processed, “it’s been five hours? You should sleep.”

Shirazu waved it off, and leaned back on his hands. “I took a long nap this afternoon. Listen, okay? You either start talking to me when you feel this way, or I’m telling Special Class Arima. I’ll tell him everything.” The fatigue was evident in Shirazu’s voice; it would have rendered the threat ineffective if he hadn’t said he’d be going directly to _Arima_.

“ _Don’t._ ” Kaneki wasn’t sure why. Was it because he didn’t want to worry Arima, or was it because he was _scared_?

“Then don’t pull this shit again,” Shirazu was still feeling anger, even five hours later, and even if he was tired, it was still difficult to mask. Sasaki had blatantly betrayed him; he’d made the choice to escape to wherever the drug had taken him rather than depend on Shirazu.

Sasaki’s voice was quiet, “Ok.” He felt ashamed and timid. He was supposed to be Shirazu’s superior, but he didn’t deserve that anymore. Power doesn’t determine everything. He’d learned that much from the mistakes of his past. Still, he felt sick with himself. And what if he did tell Arima? What would Arima do?

The Quinx pulled him from his thoughts, “Now, talk to me,” Shirazu demanded.

It was strange. Had they switched places? It was odd to take care of one’s mentor, but the blonde Quinx figured Sasaki was human, too, so he had room to make mistakes. Well, technically, he was a ghoul. But-well, it didn’t matter. He was the closest thing Ginshi had to a parent. Taking care of a parent was not what he was used to. When he’d lived with his father, he’d mostly ignored his existence and focused on his siblings.

Kaneki didn’t know what to say, but he knew that he hated the vulnerability. This was the second time Shirazu had seen him like this. He didn’t deserve to lead them if he was going to do be doing things like this. Still, he’d die before letting anyone take them from him. It was his responsibility to protect the Quinx. “Shirazu, you don’t have to-“

“Just do it before you piss me off again.”

_Well, that was inviting._

This felt like deja-vu. “What do you want me to say?” Kaneki was tired and still confused, but now it wasn’t because of the suppressants; it was because Shirazu was still here. If he was angry, why didn’t he just leave? Why did he stay with him all this time? Why hadn’t he already told Arima? Why was he trying to make deals?

“Fuck if I know- whatever lead you to this- _this_ \- what you’re doing. Just talk about it instead of running away from it.” Shirazu felt like he should have done this from the beginning. He had kind of tried, but well- He only had the best intentions with Sasaki. He was doing his best. He had to keep telling himself there were so many things he didn’t know about his superior’s situation. Like that bullying that had gone on in the meeting- were things always like that? Was Sasaki constantly dealing with that sort of prejudice? From everyone?

“I’m not . . .” he was going to claim that he wasn’t running away, but the argument never left his lips, “I don’t really know how to do that.”

“Well, obviously. –But really, I mean, haven’t you had friends before to talk to?”

Friends. A friend. One that he spoke to. No, one that read his mind, _so words that were hard to say weren’t always necessary_.

Shirazu remembered then what Sasaki had said about his best friend, and he instantly blanched, “Shit, I’m sorry. Sasaki, forget I-“

“It’s okay.” Sasaki responded calmly and stared at the ceiling. He didn’t notice that he was scratching at his wrist again, “He’s alive. Arima told me.”

“What? Really?”

“Yes. He would never lie to me.” He was convinced now. So much had really changed? How much did he trust him now?

“Then, that’s great!” Sasaki didn’t look pleased, so Ginshi questioned, “It’s not?”

“I don’t know.”

Shirazu didn’t know what to do with that response.

“Iitoki was right,” and Kaneki changed the subject. He owed it to Shirazu to at least _try_.

“That S3 bastard from the debriefing? No, he wasn’t.” Shirazu dismissed it instantly. He’d had to hold back choice words for that cocky brunette during that meeting.

Kaneki pulled his knees close and wrapped his arms around them. He scratched his wrist and Ginshi tried not to flinch when he was reminded of what Sasaki had been through from his very visible scar, “I didn’t know about Amon, but I do know others . . . others who work with Aogiri.”

“I’m sure not all of them are bad.” It had been three months, but Shirazu would never forget that night, “That girl . . . from the auction house,” he ventured pulling up bad memories.

Kaneki shook his head, but it wasn’t clear about what he was denying, “I haven’t even tried to see her; I can’t understand why she-“ Hinami was with Aogiri, but why?

“Sasan, you can’t. You’d be putting yourself, her, and even the squad at risk.”

“It’s wrong to do nothing.” He hated standing still.

Shirazu quickly reasoned with him, “You don’t have a choice.”

_I’m going to fuck up everything- just like back then, except it will be worse this time. I can’t even leave the house without the CCG knowing. I can’t change anything. I can't move. It’ll be worse-worse because all of you will be involved when I fail-it’ll be so much worse-_

That. Mutsuki had taught Shirazu to recognize it, and he’d seen it last time, too. The look on Sasaki’s face, and the way his eyes were shifting so quickly left and right. He was panicking in his mind; he wasn’t saying any of it out loud.

“ _Sasan_.”

Sasaki’s gray eyes met Shirazu’s.

“We’re going to survive this if we _work together_ \- if you trust us. You have to _trust us_.”

Sasaki tried to think of the people he had trusted. He tried to think of what had resulted from the word _‘trust’_. There was only one person who had never betrayed him- one person who held any weight with that word. And he was nowhere. He was gone. Inaccessible. The only person Kaneki trusted that had never betrayed him was Hide, and he was the only person he couldn’t see.

“Help me find him,” Kaneki looked through Ginshi, not seeing him at all.

“Him?”

“Help me find my friend- the one who works for the CCG.”

This was an act of trust. Shirazu could be satisfied with that, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **The tanka poem is by Shiki Masaoka. Persimmons roughly mean _to be buried in the beauty of nature_ , and it is juxtaposed with the ringing of a temple bell. It's the situation Kaneki was in at the time. He was attempting to fall into the spider lily garden of his mind/death through the use of, or "eating", the persimmon flowers, but the temple bells, Shirazu's voice, is calling him back, so he never sinks completely.  
> Haha, at least, that is what I was going for.
> 
> What will happen next? Haha~ I have about 20 other chapters started, but it'll take some time. Please have patience, and, as always, thank you all so much for cheering me on. It means so much!


	10. Kanpai  - Dec 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter a while ago. More head-canon, so please forgive me. I hope it's not super ooc. T-T Please enjoy~

“So, let’s cut the crap. What’s going on?” Taishi and Arima were at a local standing bar in Shinjuku. It was intimate only because the noise level of the parties around them at other tables and other standing bars along the street were too loud for any to eavesdrop on their conversation. The air was crisp and cold. It was December, and while it wasn’t the coldest time of the year in Tokyo, it was certainly getting there.

“ . . . .” Arima eyed his drink. He had no idea on where to even begin.

“You invited me out to drinks- even got me my favorite highball.” Didn’t that explain everything? “What is it you want to talk about?”

“Well, I’m not sure how to put it into words,” because Arima was never good with maintaining relationships, leaving the work entirely in the hands of others, Taishi forgave him for that.

It meant something that Kishou would invite _him_ somewhere. “Okay, no surprise there. But damn, you brought us to Shinjuku? You were really trying this time. Let me take a guess though.” Taishi could just imagine Arima researching online what was popular in order to lure Taishi out for a simple conversation they could have had anywhere.

“Sasaki, right?” Taishi shrugged. It wasn’t a secret, at least from Taishi and the few Arima spoke to, that Arima was invested in the boy. If one was around the Shinigami long enough, they’d be able to pick up on his interests, his concerns, and even his beliefs. It just took a hell of a lot of time and patience. One had to pay attention to small things like the inflection in his voice or the topics he’d bring up. He never spoke of things directly. It was always like his conversations were coded. Truthfully, Taishi had little patience with Arima, but he’d spent more time with him than almost anyone else had, so that made up for it. It helped that Arima had his moments. Maybe once every few months he’d be as direct as he was now. It wouldn’t seem like much to others, but it was a leap for the reaper of the CCG.

“ . . . . Yes.” Arima liked it better when Taishi did most of the talking, really, as long as he didn’t say anything annoying. It meant Arima didn’t have to work so hard at articulating or even admitting to his concerns.

“Well, what about him? He did pretty well in the last mission, right? As did the rest of his team?” Taishi had not read the reports, but he had been invited to the promotion ceremony. It was quite a few promotions at once. It wasn’t every day that an entire squad got promoted at once.

“Yes.”

“So, what’s bothering you?” Taishi didn’t know whether to grumble or laugh. This guy.

“I just . . . I wasn’t necessary.”

“Well, that’s a good thing right? From what you’ve told me in the past, you only step in when he goes berserk, right?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t get it.” He wished Kishou would just spit it out already.

“I just-”

“ . . . . Well?”

“Did you . . . have a good relationship with your father?”

“Whaaat?” Taishi slammed his highball into the table top, which was really just a polished piece of wood on top of a barrel.

“Is that too personal of a question?” Had he crossed a line?

“What? No. No. You can ask me anything, Kishou. I’m just confused.”

“ . . .” the death god offered no explanation.

“My father and I got along okay. I guess it was a typical relationship. I mean, he left me and my mom when I was ten, you know? I never saw him after that. He was barely present most of the time if I remember correctly. When I was a kid though, he tried to teach me things. When I didn’t do as I was told, he scolded me. Typical father-son relationship, I guess. He was a bastard for walking out when he did.”

“ . . . .”

“Kishou, did you not have a father?”

“I never knew my parents.” He didn’t detail that he never had the chance, because they were both dead. Ghouls.

“Oh. . . . Sorry to hear that.”

“I can’t feel loss over something I never had.” Arima’s tone was entirely logical. It made complete sense to him, and he saw no sadness in it. If anything, it was a little tedious that people would bother with words of condolences.

There was a pause, and finally, Fura spoke, “So, you want to be a father to Sasaki?”

“ . . . .” It was what he wanted now, wasn’t it?

“You really care about him.”

“ . . .” He wanted him to be happy. That was the same thing, wasn’t it?

“Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you care about someone this much.”

“ . . . .” It was better not to make connections with others. The only people he really connected with were in as much danger as he was. Taishi. Take. Koori. And now, Haise. Take grew annoyed of him. Koori often lied to him, well, in a way. Taishi maybe only stayed with him out of obligation. Maybe. They’d known each other too long.

“You’ve always fretted over him, but I thought that was because you felt responsible. You know, if something happened, it would reflect on you as well.” Taishi had only made this assumption, because it was one thing to mentor the people Kishou had in the past like Hirako and Ui, but it was another to raise them and take care of them as he had with Haise after he had been discharged from the hospital but before he’d become a Rank 3 Investigator. They’d even lived together. Arima had taught him how to cook and how to fight and so many other things in-between. Haise had been given no options of trusting anyone else, because Haise had no one else. It would be strange if Arima’s relationship with Haise were the same as with Hirako and Ui.

“No, that’s never been the case,” the words fell off his tongue without concern.

“I see . . . He regained his memories, didn’t he? Does he not have a father?” Fura made eye contact with the bartender and put a two in the air. Arima had barely touched his own drink, but Fura would finish it if necessary. He looked back and watched Arima look thoughtfully at the carbonated beverage.

“No. Nor does he have a mother. He had an aunt, but he doesn’t consider her family.”

“So, he has no family,” Taishi clarified and finished his drink as the bartender set two more highballs on their table.

“He considers . . . well, before he regained his memories he mentioned how I might be like a father to him . . . . and Akira a mother, and his subordinates he is in charge of as his family.”

Taishi smirked. “He’s really that sweet a kid.”

“He’s too kind,” Arima wasn’t denying anything.

“You’ve said enough in the past three years that it’s easy for me to see that he’s a good kid, but it does surprise me a little that others don’t see that.” Taishi considered his words again, “ . . . . Akira, though.”

Arima made a sound of recognition at the tragedy of their little troublesome family now and took a drink of his beverage mostly out of obligation and gratitude.

“So, I think what you’re trying to say is that you want to be more involved in his life. If that’s the case, just . . . make more opportunities to be available and present,” that’s what Taishi had missed, anyway, from his father. Arima said nothing, trying to put together what this all might entail. Taishi added, “That’s it. It means a lot. I mean, I can’t imagine what it would be like to grow up without parents like that, but it was still painful when I felt like they weren’t there for me- when I felt alone. Create opportunities to be available.”

Arima listened, watching his friend with interest.

Taishi took it as a sign to continue, “Yeah. I mean, if the kid said that himself . . . . about you being a father figure, then I don’t think it would take that much, right? I never thought that this would be what our conversation would involve this evening.” He laughed a little, “Just- Kishou Arima- a father?”

Arima glared for the briefest of moments and then relaxed again. Of course, Taishi was only teasing him. After a pause, he replied, “He deserves . . . to be happy.” When Kishou said it out loud, it felt strange.

“Wow.” Fura also found it weird, but he understood it to be a good thing. Perhaps his friend hadn’t figured that out just yet.

Arima looked back at him through his glasses, annoyance apparent.

“Really though, you’ve shown more humanity in these last three years than in the total fifteen years I’ve known you.”

“Taishi.”

“I’m not kidding.” Fura lifted his glass and clinked it against Kishou’s, drinking it down afterwards. Again, out of obligation, Kishou picked up his glass and drank more as well. It wasn’t that he didn’t like alcohol; he just considered it the same as drinking anything else and he wasn’t particularly thirsty. Perhaps he just didn’t see the point.

“There’s something else?” Taishi was now two highballs ahead of Kishou, but he could still pick up on his friend’s subtle communications.

“I told him that Nagachika is alive.” Arima would only admit this to Taishi.

“Nagachika . . . . Nagachika . . .” He couldn’t put his finger on that name.

“Hideyoshi.”

Recognition clicked. “Oh. Wow, but not _everything_?”

“No, but I wonder if I shouldn’t tell him more.”

“I wouldn’t.” Taishi dismissed it immediately.

“Why?” It had really made Haise so happy.

“There’s nothing he could do anyway.” His voice had become serious.

“You have a point.” Arima knew better. It was weird that he’d even consider it. What was Haise doing to him?

“That kid is as good as a world away from him. That’s where he wants him anyway, so that’s how it’ll be.” Taishi spoke plainly. He knew Kishou would appreciate that, too.

Kishou knew it. “Yes, you’re right.”

“Really, I don’t think there is anything you can do about it. –Or even his father. It’s his grandfather’s decision.”

“You’re right.”

“How did he take it? Is there really a reason for the secrecy?”

Arima remembered the tears. The shaking. Haise had never looked so happy, at least, not since he had regained his memories. “He was very emotional. Honestly, . . . . . yes, I think there is.”

“Then you’ve got to get him to let it go.”

Arima wasn’t perfect; he had faults. “I don’t know how I wo-”

Taishi didn’t want an excuse, even if this was the kind of shit that Kishou was terrible at. “He’s _really_ gotta let it go.”

It certainly wasn’t something he could beat out of Haise. How could he possibly change his mind about his childhood friend? He would need to think on it. At length.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the 14th is Mutsuki's birthday. I did a tiny drabble for it, but it didn't amount to much. If I ever finish it, I'll post it as an omake. 
> 
> Maybe the Hide theory I subscribe to is finally evident here? :D


	11. Comparing Notes- Dec 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I went so long without updating. I needed a break from this for a little while, so I wrote some Hide/Haise to relax.  
> I hope this chapter isn't awful.  
> I mapped out the whole story finally, and it will focus on each Quinx Squad member. I hope it's enjoyable. I might be kind of sort of maybe really nervous-haha!  
> Thank you all, as always, for your kindness and support.

The chateau garage was large enough for the car, but since Shirazu had gotten his bike about a year ago, Sasaki had started parking his car outside. He hadn't said a word- just parked it on the tiny drive outside that was just large enough for the compact car. Shirazu had been grateful. It was an unspoken gift, really.

It was Shirazu's only hobby anyway- working on his bike. He liked restoring old parts. Not only were old parts cheap, but there was something to be said about the fact that one could make something twenty years old appear brand new and run even better than many of the products on today's market. Shirazu was still learning, but in the year he'd been working on it, and fixing it after the prior incident, he really had improved quite a bit. The best part about the hobby is that it wasn't expensive once he had the tools and it meant he had transportation. No matter the time of day, he'd be able to see his siblings. He'd only ever needed to leave in the middle of the night when the trains weren't running once, but it made a difference both to Haru, who had a fever, and to himself, because he was able to be there for her when she needed him.

He was currently working on some old fog lights he'd found. There was a shop he went to regularly that would give him parts other people tossed for a couple hundred yen. He had gotten lucky with these. They hadn't even been broken- just old, rusted some, hazy. It was an easy fix requiring only sandpaper and some paste used for polishing from the shop. He was sanding them now, dipping the rough brown paper into water every now and then before rubbing it against the clouded surface of the light.

His eyes were focused on his work as he spoke. “So, tomorrow is the promotion ceremony. Then, the party. Saturday, we go in for the surgery. Kuki, it’ll just be you and Sasan in the chateau. Yours took about two weeks?”

“A week and a half.”

“Okay, so, in that time . . .” It wasn't like Shirazu to leave sentences unfinished. He usually just said what was on his mind. It was a clear indicator that something was going on.

Urie pulled one earbud off and waited, “Yeah?”

Shirazu's brows furrowed, and he looked visibly upset. It was hard to tell whether it was because of the fog light he was working on or their conversation.

“Ginshi?” Urie tested the waters.

The blonde looked up from his work. “In that time, you’ve gotta keep an eye on Sasaki.”

“What?” his tone was flat.

“As your squad leader, I-I’m telling you right now . . . to keep an eye on him. At all times.”

“Are you going to explain?” Urie’s typical expression wasn’t changing.

“No.”

Urie slipped his headphones back on.

Ginshi closed the distance between them in an angry stomp, but Yonebashi blocked his way just before he reached his target.

“Hold on, Shiragin. There’s something you’re not saying here,” Saiko’s tone was pure concern.

Tooru piped in, “He can’t.”

All eyes found their way to Tooru. He’d just stepped into the garage. No one questioned why he was late even though it was out of the ordinary. “At least,” he put the cap back on the PET bottle he had been drinking from, “that’s what I’m assuming. I don’t know either.” He looked to the person he’d been working closely with for two months now, “Knowing you, it’s something you’ve been asked not to tell, right?”

Shirazu nodded, insanely grateful that Tooru was vouching for him. What would he do without this guy?

Urie interrupted the moment with a neutral tone, “I don’t have time to babysit Sasaki. He’s an adult.”

Shirazu wouldn’t be able to fight back with fists since Saiko was still between them, so he’d have to use words- something he wasn’t necessarily skilled at, “Oh, and what will you be doing while we’re gone?”

“My job.” Blunt.

“We don’t have a case right now,” Ginshi knew the words would bounce right off the violet haired Quinx. If there was no trouble known, Urie would find it, and if there was no trouble at all, Urie would make it.

“That doesn’t mean there aren’t people out there being killed by ghouls.”

Saiko actually laughed at that, and the smirk she shared with her teammate was more than merely mischief, “Auu, you sound so heroic when you put it that way. You’re just trying to take the initiative to get another promotion aren’t you? How long did this one satisfy you? Let’s see. Tomorrow is the actual ceremony, but it was approved two days ago. Two days? If that?

Shirazu cut in, “Look, I don’t care what you _plan_ on doing- It’s an _order_.”

Urie pulled his headphones off in annoyance and straightened, “What? You can’t just-”

“I’m your _squad leader_ ,” Ginshi was firm. That’s right. He was still the squad leader. Urie still answered to him, and there was nothing he could do to change it.

Kuki’s thus far stoic expression was slowly warping into a scowl. He couldn’t decide what he hated more- losing or being told what to do. Either way, right now he was experiencing both. His hand clenched into a fist.

Shirazu moved on through their little weekly meeting, “Anything else?”

Tooru spoke quickly after seeing Kuki’s clenched fists, “Did you feel different, Urie?”

“Tch,” Urie wasn’t ready to move to the next topic, and he was sure that Tooru and Ginshi were working against him in dropping the subject.

“Well, did you?” Saiko was wearing her lazy smile, and she turned around in front of him to look at him. He decided she was too close and pushed her away.

However, Urie digressed. “My senses were better, but, no, not really. Your cell count is so low; I don’t even know why you’re worried,” and he was looking at Tooru when he said it. Tooru’s count was ridiculously low. What did it matter to him?

“Urikuri, you’ve gotten so much more honest with us,” Saiko closed the distance between them and reached out to pinch his cheek, and he slapped it away. She only smiled back at him.

Tooru didn’t really agree with that. Maybe it was the case for his and Saiko’s relationship, but Urie was still just as cold and manipulative- or at least he attempted to be manipulative- with Tooru and Ginshi, “If that’s what you want to call it . . . .”

Urie rolled his eyes, “Whatever.”

“It was Shiba-sensei, right?” Ginshi asked.

“Of course it was Shiba,” came Urie’s curt reply.

“You’re really worried Tooru?” Saiko looked concerned. Mutstuki worried easily, but, in this case, for him it wasn’t entirely misplaced. They were all well aware of his special circumstances regarding his kagune.

“My anemia never got better, and I still can’t produce a kagune, though-“

“What?” Ginshi gently encouraged him to continue.

“Well . . .” Was it really his position to say?

“Tell us, Mitsupon,” Saiko sat down on the bench that was built into the wall of the garage behind Urie, and he moved to make space for her before sitting down as well.

“Well, Sasan told me he had a friend in the past with the same problem.

The other three waited curiously for Tooru to go on- even Urie had pulled his headphones off so that they could hang silently around his neck in order to hear Tooru’s soft voice.

“I mean, his friend couldn’t produce a kagune, either.”

“What, really? So some ghouls are like that?” Ginshi’s interest was piqued.

“Yeah, but . . . he mentioned that he had amazing healing abilities. Even without eating or anything; he’d heal instantly- something like that,” and it was clear that Tooru was conflicted about sharing the information.

“But you-“ Urie spoke then.

“Yeah, I heal, but I lose too much blood in the process. It almost makes it pointless, because I have to get blood transfusions anyway. . . it’s not really the same.”

“I can’t believe it,” Saiko whispered.

“What?” Tooru wasn’t used to seeing Saiko look serious yet.

“Maman actually talked to you about his past.”

“Not really. He just compared me to his friend,” Tooru reasoned.

Ginshi understood where Saiko was coming from and immediately reasoned in her defense, “Yeah, but he’s never told me anything about his past, either. He's mentioned things, but never in detail like that.”

“Same here,” Saiko deflated. Was she _jealous_? Surely not.

Urie nodded his agreement. Of course Sasaki hadn’t told _him_ anything.

“I well, it was right when he came back. I mean, when he decided to put us in pairs.”

“That was a while ago,” the blue haired Quinx responded thoughtfully as if the reason it had happened at all was resting that information somewhere.

There was a silence, and it was then that the other three collectively realized they’d made Tooru uncomfortable.

Saiko changed the subject, “Speaking of Maman’s past. Raise your hand if you think he knows Touka-chan.”

The three boys raised their hands.

“A lost love?” she beamed mischievously.

“I doubt it,” the squad leader set aside one of the fog lights and picked up the other. There was a clear difference already, and it made him excited.

“What? Why?” the girl pouted a bit. It was nice to think of Sasaki having someone special in his life. That meant maybe he could be just a little happier.

“He seemed pretty composed. He’s been on edge since he came back the second time from the detention center. If they were that involved, I think he’d be more upset,” Shirazu was still sanding as he said it.

“Well don’t you pay attention,” Saiko considered the close observation out of character for Ginshi.

“I’m not sure; he did cry the first time,” Shirazu added quickly as if trying to cover something up. He also appeared somewhat embarrassed. Saiko picked up on it. Yup, something was going on with her Maman; it was impossible for Shirazu to hide anything.

“Whatever connection they had in the past, it’s obvious that they know each other,” Urie spoke up.

“Agreed,” Saiko nodded.

“It’s not really our business,” Tooru spoke softly and chose his words carefully.

The other three considered Tooru’s words, but they didn’t seem convinced.

He added, “Everyone is allowed to have secrets. We should allow him his.”

Urie was immediately on the defensive, entirely unconvinced by the weak argument, “Even if they get all of us killed?”

Shirazu piped in then, “Yeah, because Touka-chan is definitely a ghoul that’s going to murder all of us next time we walk into her coffee shop.”

“You think she’s a ghoul?” Urie was jumping on any theory at this point. He didn’t realize how interested he was in finding out what Shirazu was leaving out of their conversation until now.

“No, what- I was just saying-“ Shirazu dropped his sandpaper in his own flustered frustration.

Saiko smiled thoughtfully, “Maman was human once; she could be human or ghoul.”

"Whatever she is, as long as she isn't hurting Sasan, maybe we should just leave it alone," Shirazu mirrored Tooru’s thoughts as he picked the wet sandpaper off the floor and went back to work.

Kuki let it go. In his mind, he’d already decided it was worth investigating himself.

“So, anything else?” Urie was ready to continue his own little investigation of the half-ghoul by the name of Kaneki Ken.

“Yeah, actually, the party.” Shirazu set down his work and leaned against the small work bench in the back wall of the garage. “Well, we saw how they treated Sasan in the debriefing meeting. I’m not saying we need to stand up for him or start any sort of conflict, but we can’t let that happen again.”

“Wow, Shiragin, you look so cool right now,“ Saiko was clearly seeing something different in the theater of her mind than everyone else, but Shirazu gave her a smirk and a thumb’s up anyway.

“We’ll protect Maman!” she rocked side to side happily, effectively nudging Urie on the bench, which just earned her a look of mild annoyance in her direction.

“Sasan has had a rough few months; let’s make sure he doesn’t have to spend his time worrying about us during the party,” Shirazu was surreptitiously mentioning their collective trip, minus Urie, to the bar Nutcracker frequented. Mutsuki had completed the objective, but that was only after getting embarrassingly tipsy.

There was a long silence, and finally, Saiko called out the elephant in the room, “You sound so mature this evening, Shiragin. Are you really Ginchi? Is there some sort of strange body swapping going on right now? Seriously?”

Ginshi blinked, but then immediately began laughing, blushing a tiny bit in embarrassment, “I mean, I’m the Squad Leader so-”

Tooru actually felt himself let out a chuckle and joined in Saiko’s mirth, “I think she was complimenting you?”

“Yeah!” and Saiko mirrored the pose Ginishi had given her earlier complete with the thumbs up.

“Are we done then?” and, as always, Urie, with his permanent look of disinterest, was ready to be alone again.

“Yeah, yeah, but you guys go ahead; I gotta finish these lights,” and with that the unofficial Quinx Squad meeting had come to a close.

“Urie, stay a second,” Shirazu called out to him before he made his way back into the house. Saiko looked back at the violet haired boy and shrugged, following Tooru into the living room.

When the other two had left, Kuki turned around, “What?”

“I need something else from you,” Ginshi put down his sandpaper and fog light and straightened up.

“What?” from Ginshi’s actions, Urie could already tell it would be something he didn’t want to hear. What the hell? After what he’d requested of him earlier, he thought he had the room to request something else?

“Your informant. Chie  . . . Hori, was it? I want you to introduce Sasan to her,” and Ginshi was deadly serious, his eyes locked onto Urie’s and unblinking.

Urie felt the air around him change. Did it have something to do with why he had to watch Sasaki, too? This was getting ridiculous. He hated the thought of Shirazu knowing more than he did. “What? No. Absolutely not.”

“I said introduce them. I didn’t say strike any sort of deal or gather any information,” Shirazu fully believed it made a difference.

Urie was convinced their Squad Leader was an idiot and, off the battlefield, that was all he’d ever be, “Introducing them is worse. I lose an informant.”

“Kuki, you’re a member of a team.”

Urie actually made a face. He didn’t care for the first-name use, but he never bothered to correct anyone, “I won’t do it.”

“You will. Whether you like it or not, you agreed to the operation which came with admission into this squad. You’re a member of the Quinx Squad and you need to start acting like a team member. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter how you feel about us; you have to work with us.”

Urie made to punch the blonde, but Shirazu saw it coming, and he actually caught the fist in midair.

“I’ll kick your ass, Urie; just do it.”

“Fuck you,” the violet haired Quinx pulled away.

“While we’re gone,” Shirazu added.

“Whatever,” and Urie put his headphones back in, his back turning to Shirazu as he walked out. Oh he’d introduce Sasaki to Hori, and he’d use her to find out what was going on. She operated based on what she needed- constantly ready for an exchange of information. She’d work with him if he gave her the right secrets. He’d find out what he needed to destroy Sasaki. He’d learn everything he could about Kaneki Ken.

Mutsuki walked in just as Urie walked out.

Shirazu looked up to see him, mouth agape, “Did you hear that?”

“It was well-spoken, Ginshi,” and it was clear that Mutsuki meant it.

Shirazu gave a toothy grin, “You really think so?”

“Yes,” Mutsuki smiled. It was the least he could do for Shirazu who clearly needed some amount of encouragement, even if it was obvious that he had really improved as a leader.


	12. Party All the Time - Dec 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 300 kudos- thank you guys so much.  
> Forgive me. I could not stop writing this chapter. Every time I thought I was done, I realized that there was something else I wanted to say or include. I actually left out like two or three conversations. /sob  
> I finally gave up and decided to post it as is. I hope it is enjoyable.

It was a private izakaya room with a widescreen TV for karaoke. The TV was off, meaning the karaoke was not the main selling point; the food and the endless pitchers of beer were. Needless to say, Sasaki was doing everything in his power to maintain the smile on his face and to keep from breathing through his nose.

He hadn’t cooked for the Qs in the time between Cochlea and the Samurai mission, but in this past week since the Samurai mission he had- at least two or three times, and had even made an extra effort for Mutsuki’s birthday. Still, he felt out of practice. No, not with cooking. He felt out of practice with simply holding back the urge to vomit in the presence of vegetables, fish, meat, and the scent of fried anything. Grease was particularly disgusting. Especially because it got on everything, even when people attempted to be so clean.

He wished he wasn’t here, and he couldn’t help but sneak a glance in Arima’s direction. He couldn’t help but place the blame on him, even if it was a party in honor of himself and his squad. He couldn’t help but maybe glare in his direction until his pretend father looked up and noticed. Kaneki watched as Arima’s lips curved slightly in a smug smile. What the hell was he smiling for? This was what life was like for Kaneki now and he found it terribly unfair. Anything could happen this evening. He wasn’t used to being around adults when they were drinking, especially in mass numbers- well, just over twenty, but that was plenty enough- at least 17 more than he’d ever experienced in his life.

He wanted to go home to the chateau. He needed to find out about the man he’d seen at the ceremony. He was sure it was him. It must have been him. It had to have been-

“So, Maman, the question we’re all dying to know- You can drink with us or what?” At the moment, Saiko was pouring cassis oolong into a glass presumably for Sasaki.

Kaneki went right into mother-mode as though it were second nature around the girl, and he reached to tilt the pitcher back, “Saiko, put that away; you’re too young to-”

“I’m 20,” she smiled smugly and brought the glass in front of her instead. If he could only drink coffee, then of course he wouldn’t like a mixture of tea and cassis liquor. She’d never understand why coffee was a thing but other fruits or plant based drinks weren’t. Whatever.

Sasaki looked a little embarrassed. Oh. He’d missed her birthday. He had been in Cochlea three months ago. He felt guilty even though it wasn’t something he could have controlled. Saiko’s smile softened into a reassuring expression and she reached over to pat his hand.

“Saiko, let me pour it next time,” Ginshi reasoned. He knew it wasn’t proper to pour for yourself, and he was trying to be as aware as possible of their behavior in front of their peers. It was a bit out of character, but sometimes responsibility meant stepping into habits one wasn’t used to.

Kaneki made no move to get a drink, and instead worked to correct Tooru’s behavior which was a little difficult since he was all the way on the other side of Ginshi, “Tooru, you aren’t supposed to mix those two things together-” Mutsuki was getting creative with the pitchers and mixing beer and umeshu. He’d found that beer wasn’t something he really enjoyed the flavor of, but umeshu was incredibly sweet, which made it girly, and he couldn’t drink a girly drink. Clearly, the best way to solve this problem was to just mix them.

Half of the table was staring. Was this an episode of some family drama or was this really the CCG special project Quinx Squad that had come out of not only defeating, but capturing an SS rated ghoul without so much as a missing limb or a major wound?

Sasaki felt their stares, and he was visibly blushing. Urie stealthily put his arm around Saiko and pulled her away from her Maman while also grabbing food from across the table. He’d never make it look like his actions were actually well-meaning and in recognition of her needs; he’d always find some way to make it seem like he was merely assisting Sasaki or correcting Saiko on accident. He’d help her drink her cassis oolong, but would never get a drink for himself; that would be unprofessional. While Mutsuki and Yonebashi were of legal drinking age, Urie and Shirazu were not.

The S3 member that had the sharp tongue in the debriefing meeting slid a highball of some sort down the table to Sasaki, “Try one, Sasaki-san.” He was already making a move, challenging Sasaki to drink something that would make any ghoul cringe in disgust.

“I’m sorry; I don’t really care for the taste,” Sasaki answered apologetically, wording his response in such a way that he avoided the question as to whether he was physically capable of drinking with them or not. He slid it back, and actually smiled at the man with the shaggy brown hair, “We’ve never formally met. Sasaki Haise.” He stood and reached a hand out.

The other stood, and Sasaki was able to get a better look at him. He was about the same height and build as himself, but his hair was unkempt and his cheekbones were strong, giving him more of a masculine face than Sasaki’s own. He guessed some women could find it attractive. His narrow brown eyes made him look more mature as well. Still, he wasn’t in any way intimidating. Kaneki could take him, or so he assumed. He met his hand and they shook, “Assistant Special, Iitoki Jun.”

The half-ghoul twitched. Maybe. Maybe he could take him. Akira was mentoring the S3, but the S3’s members were of higher ranking than her own? Seriously? Holy Mother, indeed. They both sat down, but, unfortunately for Sasaki, there were too many curious people at the table to ignore his special circumstances. With everything being as out in the open as it was now, there was a hover of curiosity surrounding the half-ghoul and the four little guinea pigs.

If there was ever a time to find out, here, during nomihoudai, was the time to do it.

“So you can’t eat any food at all?” A member of another squad asked curiously. Juuzou watched as someone moved a bowl of raw octopus on ice garnished with picked vegetables in front of Haise. Juuzou watched his hands, his lips, his nose, his eyes, and his throat. He wouldn’t forgive anyone for making Haise too uncomfortable. It was one thing to use catty words in a meeting. It was another to make fun of someone and bully them for something they could not help and did not ask for- especially when many people tended to use alcohol as an excuse for inexcusable behavior.

“I really don’t care for it, thank you,” Kaneki put up his hands defensively and pushed the bowl over to Urie, who was sitting on the other side of Saiko. Urie promptly pushed it over to Shirazu. Shirazu, after meeting Tooru’s eyes, seemed to understand what was being requested of him and began to chow down on the pickled vegetables, offering the octopus first to Tooru.

Arima was also watching, and he was impressed that Haise was handling the behavior of the others with such grace and tact. He felt proud of him. He’d step in if necessary, even if it was just to do so before Suzuya did. He knew that the two shared some sort of bond, and, being the ever observant man that he was, it was easy to pick up on the fact that Suzuya was feeling very protective of Haise this evening.

“Oh, are those ginkgo seeds?” Haise spotted a small modest bowl filled with about thirty seeds over by their host and mastermind behind the party.

“Oh, yes, they are!” Aji Hiro, who had orchestrated this whole affair, was smiling as always, and happily passed the bowl to Haise, blue eyes shining. He’d introduced himself earlier before they’d sat down without listing his title. Was he an Assistant Special Class, too?

“Thanks, Hiro.” Though he appeared much younger, he was actually older than Haise by a few years, but he insisted he be referred to by his first name without a title.

“You like ginkgo, First Class Sasaki?” Another member from a different squad spoke up. Her name was Park Mari, and she had a distinct Korean accent she was often trying to hide. Her speech was soft and kind, having no ill intent in her tone. She was half Korean, from what Sasaki had gathered. Hiro had introduced her earlier to himself and the Quinx and had referred to her as ‘Princess’- much to her protest.

“Yes, very much,” he lied and he ate one seed that was covered in salt using his chopsticks, two- still smiling, three. He could do this. It helped that they were very salty. There were some foods that were easier to swallow than others. This was one of them.

Sasaki laughed a little, “It’s honestly pretty embarrassing to be the topic of conversation.”

A soft laugh emitted from her in return, “My mother won’t let me eat them.”

Haise smiled at her. She was really cute, and she acted very demure like a princess might, and he couldn’t help but think it was really endearing. The way she moved, spoke, laughed, and even watched others as they spoke- she was the picture of grace. “It’s never made me sick before,” he assures her. Sasaki offered the bowl to her, but she only laughed and waved it away.

Juuzou had been watching with interest and finally spoke up, “Why would it make you sick?”

Hanbee turned to him and answered for Haise, “Eating and handling ginkgo is poisonous.”

“What? Really?” Red eyes grew wider.

Hanbee was thrilled for Juuzou didn’t show that innocent spark that would light his eyes with curiosity as often as he used to. It was a spark that was becoming more and more rare.

“Yes~! If you handle the fruit of a ginkgo tree without gloves, you can develop a rash or even blisters. Also, if you eat too many of the seeds within the fruit, especially if they are not washed properly, you can get very sick.”

“Also,” Arima added with the smallest of smiles while watching Haise, “they smell terrible, so if you eat them, your breath will smell for days.” No, the smell would go away easily after brushing one’s teeth, which meant that Arima was _teasing_.

Everyone within earshot stared save for Haise who just continued eating the communal bowl of ginkgo seeds that he had pretty much claimed for himself. Was Arima really trying to tease Sasaki? For those who had only heard rumors of Arima, the look of shock on their faces was impossible to hide.

“ _Papa-Arima-san_ , at least I will stink of ginkou and not you, jou.” Sasaki had effectively used two puns. Due to the golden color of the leaves and Western ignorance, the West called the tree ginko, which was the Japanese word for ‘bank’, so he would ‘stink of money’. ‘Jou’ was an old and heavily polite pronunciation of ‘old man’ and the same kanji could be used for ‘officer’ and ‘white ash’. Not many would understand it, but since he knew Arima held a similar love of language that he did, he was sure he’d catch it.

He did. “You’re going to parody about with your puns?” Instead of ‘parade’, he’d used parody since they shared the same hair color now, and therefore resembled each other, so if Haise was going to make fun of his white hair, then the joke would apply to him as well.

“I’m sorry CCGs shirogane is intimidated by a few jokes.” Instead of shinigami, he’d said ‘silver’ so as to refer to his ‘old man’ hair color.

“A higher rank?” the Japanese word for joke could also be pronounced as someone ‘above’. “You’re talking about me? Perhaps you’re the one intimidated, junior.”

A female voice interrupted the pun battle, “All joking aside, _Papa-Arima-san_ is such a good one.”

“Akira-san.” Haise didn’t hide his shock as he watched her slide closed the room door behind her. She had come. She was actually willingly in the same room as himself and the Quinx and, at least for the moment, she wasn’t staring daggers at any of them.

“Arima? A father? That has to be the best joke out of all of them even if it’s one I’ve heard before,” and she appeared to be genuinely smiling as she sat down at the end of the table opposite of Hiro who was sitting at the head of the table in the back.

When Arima’s cold eyes met Akira’s, she only laughed, “Really, that’s _too_ good. Has Taishi heard it yet?” A few of the younger squad members did not hide their shock. It was Mado Akira, sure, but both she and Sasaki could speak to the CCG’s shinigami so casually- could actually tease him?

Haise did his best to relax. Akira had come. She had really come. Granted, she was sitting all the way at the end of the table which put eight to eleven people between her and the Quinx squad, but she had come. She was smiling in the same room they were in. Haise turned to look at Shirazu, and being as easy to read as ever, it was clear that Shirazu was hoping that meant something.

“Is this everyone?”

“Yes!” As Akira settled down at the end of the table and someone from Juuzou’s squad poured her a beer, Hiro stood at the other end, “Akira-san, I’m so glad you came!” He clapped his hands together for attention, “Okay! With everyone here, let’s have a toast, shall well?”

They all watched Hiro expectantly.

“Glasses up!” and he raised his own perspiring glass of beer.

When Kaneki realized he didn’t have one, he saw Arima thoughtfully push one over to him. It was the color of coffee. It smelled like coffee and something else. Kaneki raised an eyebrow at him, but Arima wasn’t looking, his eyes on their host.

“To the Quinx Squad! And victory! And winning! And comrades in arms! And team members! And cute girls! And-”

A member of Suzuya’s squad actually spoke up, “Hiro! Shut up!” Sasaki noted that the two seemed to be on good terms and Hiro was unaffected by the call while many others around the table laughed.

“And- nomihoudai! Kanpai!”

“Kanpai!” and they all cheered collectively, glasses clinking in every direction before they all took a drink. Kaneki only took a sip. It was an iced coffee with some sort of coffee liquor. It was made with sugar or something, so maybe rum, because it tasted like the worst coffee he’d ever had in his life . . . or his life since he’d become a ghoul. He could tell it was made with sugar, not because it was sweet, but because he’d learned how to recognize certain flavors. He’d liken sugar to sand if asked. Eating sand wasn’t the worst thing. It was a nice try, though. It was probably the safest alcoholic beverage he could drink other than the blood wine he could remember from Helter Skelter. He’d have to make a trip to the bathroom soon.

Arima caught Sasaki’s brief expression of distaste, and his eyes were apologetic a moment. As if speaking a secret language, Haise waved a hand in front of his face to signal to the elder that he was fine.

Once the party had officially begun, everyone separated into smaller conversations and as the pitchers and plates kept coming, time passed quickly as the noisy group continued to enjoy each other’s company.

Suzuya watched his squad. Haise watched his squad. Arima watched Haise, but wasn’t actually paying much attention to anything. He was trying to think of a way to breach the subject of Haise’s old friend with him when a question caught his attention.

“So, do people taste different based on their skin color?” Iitoki’s expression was entirely serious. He honestly wanted to know the answer and considered it a completely valid question. They’d been talking about fruit and how apples tasted different depending on the region and color, but to everyone in the conversation aside from Iitoki, apparently, the question had come entirely out of left field.

Haise wore a look of shock for a moment until he saw Juuzou begin to stand up. He spoke quickly before Suzuya could make a move, which meant he wasn’t able to choose his words as carefully as he had earlier, “I’m sorry, but that’s a really . . . inappropriate question.”

“Well, I only ask because-” Iitoki insisted, but was effectively cut off by Sasaki.

“On so many levels . . .” Sasaki’s voice was sharp, his eyes narrowed, and immediately Arima’s grip on his drink grew tighter. Juuzou had also recognized the change around Sasaki, but instead of paying that mind, he stared daggers at the S3 member, reaching inside his clothing to get a-

 “Let’s turn on the karaoke already!” Hiro yelled obnoxiously down the table. It wasn’t clear if he was just voicing his sudden urge to sing or if he was actually attempting to diffuse the tension that had sprouted at his end of the table.

The moment was over as soon as it had begun, and Kaneki blinked a few times in surprise at their bubbly host. Both Juuzou and Arima relaxed as they watched Iitoki back down, turning to the last member of the S3 unit to fill his glass, because the new pitchers would come soon.

Haise gulped, careful not to meet the eyes of his mentor. He’d almost made a mistake- a big one. The smile he’d been wearing until only a second ago was back in place as he watched Shirazu and Saiko beam in excitement. His head felt a little fuzzy. He needed to leave soon, or he’d do or say something he’d regret.

“Yeah! Sing! Sing!” called Yonebashi as she began searching for the tambourine in all of the wrong places. She’d certainly had her fair share of cassis oolongs for the evening.

Shirazu grabbed a mic and tossed Saiko the tambourine that she had thus far not found in Haise’s jacket, Urie’s lap, or Mutsuki’s shirt.

Tooru didn’t sing. Neither did Kuki. Kaneki had never in the past, unless he’d been pressured to do so with Hide. However, during his time as Haise, he had been known to perform one or two songs beautifully and he would sing with Saiko, too. He probably wouldn’t sing tonight. He’d let the more enthusiastic members of the group have their fun.

Saiko would sing as many Vocaloid songs as she would be allowed to; he silently hoped she was mindful of the others at the party this evening, because she was used to having most of the time slot to herself, sharing only with Shirazu who sang whatever he knew the words to that was a crowd-pleaser.

Saiko played a song Kaneki could remember hearing at one point, mostly because the lyrics were a little risqué, but the beat was enough to get everyone who was paying attention to start clapping. She played it up quite a bit, and her singing voice was soprano so she hit the high notes where needed. After her rendition of _Killer Lady_ , she handed off another mic to Shirazu who just sang whatever one of the party members dared him to- a few others around the table joining in support of his antics. Even Akira was smiling and clapping along.

Meanwhile, Hiro and last member of the S3 were furiously tapping away at the karaoke remote with the stylus.

“They’re so eager,” Juuzou observed thoughtfully.

The new liveliness was finally having its effect on Kaneki- that or the awful almost-coffee tasting alcohol was, “Hey, I’ve never heard you sing, Juuzou. We should sing together.”

Juuzou laughed, much to Hanbee’s delight, and smiled wide for Kaneki, “No, no, I don’t sing. I’ve just never seen two people so excited for karaoke.” He directed his next words at one of his subordinates, “Haven’t you been out with them, Takumi?”

One of the members of Suzuya’s team leaned over to share with them, “The two have a feud going, actually.”

“Huh? Over what?” Saiko was suddenly leaning in, too, incredibly invested in a conversation she hadn’t heard any of. Haise took the opportunity to use her close proximity as an excuse to play with her hair. He really liked her long hair.

Takumi smiled, “Mari-chan. The 20th Ward’s Princess.”

Everyone listening, which included Hanbee, Juuzou, Haise, Arima, and Sakio, all turned their attention to the girl in question and as soon as she noticed, she blushed and then looked away, averting her eyes to watch the two boys try to pick a song.

“Every time we go out, they sing to her and try to get her to pick one of them, but she never does.” All eyes were on Takumi again, “It’s pretty cute to see, though. She usually sings, too. Plus, they learn the dances, too, in an effort to impress her.”

“Dances?” Saiko was getting excited.

“Well, they sing k-pop mostly, because it’s her favorite.”

Kaneki looked skeptical. Was he hearing this correctly, “Korean pop music?”

“Yeah,” Takumi nodded and leaned back again.

Araba voiced every opportunity to share his knowledge, “It’s very popular now, Sasaki.”

Saiko turned and buried her face in Sasaki’s shirt, “You don’t listen to k-pop, Maman? It’s on the radio, too, y’ know?”

Kaneki blushed a little, because it was a rare occasion that she called him _Maman_ in public and turned her back around. She had certainly had enough alcohol for the evening. “I don’t really pay attention, I guess.”

Saiko pouted and sat up again, moving so that her mentor’s hands fell from her hair, “You only listen to music by young women and old men. You and Arima should do a duet.”

Sasaki protested, “Saiko-chan, that’s not f-”

But Arima was actually laughing a little, much to the awe of those within earshot.

Kaneki patted her on the head, “I know plenty of popular music. I can sing-“

“No one wants to hear ‘ _Evolution_ ’ or ‘ _Heavy Rotation’_ or ‘ _Mottai Night Land’_ ,” Urie actually spoke up then with a blank expression.

Haise was immediately defensive, “Hey, Saiko and I were beautiful last time we sang-what did we sing last time, Saiko-chan?” He couldn’t remember at all. He usually would let her pick, because he only knew a few songs. They’d last gone out- what- nearly five or six months ago.

“We sang _‘Unravel’_ ,” she made space for herself between Sasaki and Urie, linking her arms around theirs. Neither of the men pushed her off.

“Right, and that wasn’t by a girl- I think.” Kaneki gave Urie a look.

“It’s not.” Saiko backed him up.

“And it was recent.” The half-ghoul insisted.

“It was.” Saiko verified.

Urie’s deadpanned expression never changed, “I don’t know what you’re trying to prove.”

Before Haise could respond, he felt a stir in his stomach. Right. He needed to take care of this as soon as possible. Just as the boys’ song started, Sasaki excused himself, pried Saiko’s arm off, was up and out of the little room, and headed for the bathroom. He was able to get rid of the seeds easily enough, and with it came the awful coffee liquor. By the time he was done, he wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but he was a lot more clear-headed now. On his way back to the room, he saw that Arima was waiting for him in the hallway. He immediately wondered if he was in trouble and then mentally kicked himself. This guilty conscience wasn’t necessary every time he saw the guy.

Arima looked up when he saw him, “Haise, are you-“

Kaneki smiled for him, “I’m fine.”

“You’re doing well,” and Arima offered praise, however small it was, because dealing with Iitoki and all of those people as well as eating and drinking human food- Arima knew it wasn’t exactly _easy_ for Haise this evening.

“I don’t even want to be here,” Kaneki admitted. He had almost entirely sobered up which meant his thoughts were back where they needed to be- on the person he saw at the award ceremony.

“Something’s bothering you.” It wasn’t a question from the reaper.

Since Arima had created an opening, Kaneki decided to take it, “He was there, wasn’t he?”

Arima said nothing, and Kaneki realized he looked kind of drained. Was he intoxicated or tired?

Kaneki decided to be more direct. He needed to get to the bottom of this immediately. It was eating away at him again, and it wasn’t something that would just go away with a few drinks. “That was Hide at the award ceremony.”

Arima didn’t affirm it, but he didn’t need to, because Haise hadn’t asked him a question. It was clear that he’d already made up him mind on who it had been. His voice was laced with a rigid stubbornness, “You need to let that go, Haise.” Arima was recalling what Fura had recommended.

Kaneki wasn’t sure he had just heard that correctly, “What?”

“You need to let _him_ go,” and that was as specific as Arima was willing to be.

“What? Are you- what? No. Absolutely not,” and Sasaki responded in just the way Arima had expected. Sasaki couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Arima knew how much Hide meant to him, and he was telling him to just _forget_ about him? He even knew that he was there at the ceremony, and he hadn’t _told_ him? What was going _on_? What was the big deal? Why did it _matter_?

“You’re going to make things very difficult both for yourself and for him,” Kishou tried to reason with Haise. Haise needed to understand that every action had a consequence. How could he still not understand that?

“No, absolutely not. That was him, wasn’t it?” And Sasaki asked, because he wanted to _hear it_. He just wanted to hear from someone else’s lips someone talk about Hide’s existence. That’s how far away he felt right now. Hide felt _so far away_ , but _hours earlier they’d been in the same room_. Nothing was making sense.

Arima relented, likely because he wasn’t thinking as clearly as he should and the look in Haise’s eyes- like he’d been stabbed through the heart by someone he’d trusted- was getting to him, “He was there, yes, but- Haise, you need to respect his wishes.”

Kaneki physically shook his head in disagreement, “What are you talking about?”

Arima would attempt logic, “All eyes were on you and the Quinx.”

“He-”

Arima cut off Haise, and actually raised a hand to quiet him. When Haise flinched, Arima put it down again. Haise was truly scared of him, but Arima didn’t have time to consider those implications. “He had the opportunity to meet with you again, and he didn’t. You need to respect that decision.”

“But he-”

“Haise. You have to let it go,” and, in an attempt to make both himself and Haise feel better, he actually messed with his hair, slipping a hand into white strands and effectively messing it up.

Haise stared. Did he just-? Then, he blushed, but said aloud, “If you think that’s going to distract me from-”

And two hands were in his hair, messing it up entirely.

“Arima, can you actually not hold liquor well?” Haise was blushing lightly, unsure of how to handle his superior at the moment.

“Get back to the party, Haise, before someone gets suspicious,” and Arima’s hands were at his sides again.

“What?” Haise attempted to comb his fingers through his hair to untangle the curls, “You’re the one being-”

“Go now.”

“What? I-”

And hands were back in his hair again.

Haise blushed and batted his hands away, “I’m going. I’m going.” Arima left for the bathroom, and Haise went back to their room. He stomped back inside to see the 20th Ward Princess, Mari, performing Miss A’s _Only You_. No one even noticed he’d entered the room, all eyes on her. He walked all the way around so as not to pass in front of her performance. It was pretty amazing. Everyone had gone quiet as if they were watching their own private concert. Dancing and singing in front of the whole party, she seemed like a completely different person- bold, confident, and exuding sex appeal. When she finished, everyone immediately began clapping and she blushed furiously as she handed off the mic.

“Princess!” Hiro and the other S3 member both yelled in unison. They were both clearly enamored with her.

Iitoki scoffed beside them, “I don’t understand why you’re so interested in a chosenjin. She’s clearly a slut like the rest of them.”

The S3 member whose name Haise didn’t know, countered only with, “No one is in the mood to bicker with you, Jun.”

Hiro’s response was much more over the top, and even came with dramatic gesticulations on Hiro’s part, “You’re just jealous of how loved she is. You must be sooooo lonely.”

Iitoki set down his drink, “Whatever. I’m not into burikko.”

Mari was waiting for space to be made at the table again before she could sit down and she blushed even more deeply. She didn’t know what that word meant.

Before anyone could say another word, a blur crossed from one side of the table to the other and effectively silenced Iitoki with a punch across the nose.

“T-Tooru?” Shirazu, who had been sitting between Urie and Tooru, was more than a little shocked by how quickly it had happened.

The man in question was completely flushed, but his eyes were angry and clear, showing pure intent and awareness in his actions, “Don’t talk to her like that! Don’t talk to Sasan like that! Don’t talk to anyone like that!”

Jun looked up, briefly in shock as his nose began to bleed. It felt like it was broken, but instead of getting angry, he just laughed- and then stopped, because that actually just made the pain worse, “Oh? The little guinea pig is upset over what I said about his hafu-sensei? What are you anyway? A hafu yourself?  Doujin? Filipino? -Wait a minute, aren’t you a g-”

Akira grabbed the brunette by his long hair and pulled his head back, “You’re done here, Iitoki?”

“Mado?” he looked surprised, which clearly wasn’t the appropriate response. Did he think his actions wouldn’t warrant any kind of consequence? Still, it was also impressive that Akira had made it from one end of the table all the way to the other in such a brief moment.

The blonde knelt down and grabbed him by the chin to turn his head and examine his nose, “Yes, it’s broken.” She stood up, “Let’s go, you _brat_.”

One of the waitresses knocked on the door, and slid it open, “Um-excuse me, but there have been complaints over noise and-oh my!” and she went pale.

Akira had already shoved a napkin on the other’s face, but she hadn’t been fast enough for the waitress not to see. She began leading her subordinate out, “Yes ma’m, sorry about that. We’re leaving now, thank you.”

“Ah, ah, yes, please, the exit is this way!” The waitress was fluttering about in desperation as soon as she’d seen the blood, and she clearly needed them gone immediately.

As soon as they were gone, an uneasiness had settled over the party. Thankfully, it was Hiro that broke it, “Ah man! It’s already ten till midnight! I only booked us for three hours.”

“No, that was plenty of time, Hiro-kun. I’m so full, I could explode!”

“Yeah, I’ve had my fill.”

“Same.”

“Ok, ok, cool, well, there is a karaoke place on the seventh floor, and a few of us already decided to go, so if anyone wants to join us, we’re going there next!”

“I’ll need to get back,” Sasaki stretched while watching Tooru, hoping he’d look up so that he could respond to what had just happened even if it was only with his eyes.

“Saiko is too tired,” Kuki spoke on her behalf.

Much to her displeasure, “What? No, I’m not. I could-“ but she didn’t finish her protest, because Urie had covered her mouth with his palm. They struggled a bit, but an inebriated Saiko was no match for a tipsy Urie.

“I’m tired myself, but I had a good time. Thank you, Hiro,” Sasaki spoke directly to their host. Getting home was priority. These kids had had enough fun for one night. He was still trying to get over the fact that Tooru had just punched someone.

Hiro beamed at the gratitude, “No problem! It’s what I do!” and he offered Shirazu a fist-bump, “I’ll hit you up next time we go out, Q-squad!”

Ginshi smiled at the name and returned the gesture, “Thanks, man.”

As the party was filing out of the room, Haise noticed that Arima was already in the hallway exchanging farewells with a few of the others, “Haise, did Akira already leave?”

“Yeah, there was . . . Well, some exciting things happened when you left, but it’s done now.”

Arima was wearing the expression he often used when waiting for someone to continue, but Haise didn’t really want to get into it. However, Arima’s expression refused to falter.

“I’m sure you’ll hear it through the rumor mill,” Kaneki offered.

“ _Haise._ ”

“Oh, there’s that _Papa-Arima_ tone again.” Kaneki teased even if it was true. Arima really did have a certain tone sometimes that sounded like he was threatening but still being kind. It was easier to hear at some times more than others.

“Haise?”

Kaneki would keep it short and sweet, “Iitoki got what was coming to him. He was rude, so Mutsuki broke his nose.”

Arima raised an eyebrow. He’d never taken Mutsuki for the violent type.

“He deserved it,” and Kaneki shrugged.

“What? Haise, that sort of behavior is inappropriate in response to anything. You’ve been too lenient with them in regards to their behavior since you-“

“Since what?”

Arima had no problem saying it, “Since your memories have returned.”

Haise actually shrugged _again_ as if he was trying to show that it didn’t matter to him, but after a beat, his face fell, and his voice was quiet, “You’re disappointed in me?” His gray eyes were concerned when they met Arima’s. He looked nervous suddenly. Scared?

Arima actually witnessed the change take place. Even after gaining twenty years of his life back, he still cared what he thought? He still felt Arima’s opinion was valuable? Arima dove both hands into Haise’s white hair and began to mess it up again, a smile coming to his face.

At the response, instead of actually pushing him away again, Kaneki smiled, and verbalized protests he didn’t really mean. If this was a new way in which Arima was trying to show affection, Kaneki realized he didn’t mind too much. Maybe he’d just need to carry a comb from now on.

It was an eventful night, but it wasn’t a disaster. For all the enemies Kaneki had within the CCG, he realized he had friends, too, and being in their company could actually be nice. Those people, and these new ones, maybe they wouldn’t abandon him now that Kaneki had his memories back- now that he was no longer completely Sasaki Haise.  But would they even be enough?

<><><><><><><><><><><> 

“Tooru?” It was nearly two in the morning when Shirazu walked down stairs to get some water. He hadn’t expected to see the green haired Quinx there. He’d claimed he was tired and had gone straight to his room after they’d gotten home. No one bothered with stopping him. He’d clearly been upset about something that Iitoki had said, but the Quinx clearly wasn’t interested in discussing it.

Mutsuki looked up from the glass of water he was currently nursing and managed a ‘Good morning.’

Shirazu poured himself a glass of water and sat down as well, “Hey, are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine,” came the exhausted reply.

“There’s medicine in the cabinet and well, if it’s a hangover, I know several cures,” Shirazu got the offer out of the way. He had seen Mutsuki drunk only once, and at that time, he was outgoing, bold, and cute, even, but this evening, while he had been more outgoing, he’d also been quick to snap.

“I’m fine, Ginshi, thanks,” and this time, Mutsuki’s tone was a little kinder, but it still sounded drained and lifeless.

“You don’t sound fine,” Shirazu insisted and felt a brief moment of deja-vu.

Mutsuki decided to be a little more honest with his partner, “I’ll be okay . . . eventually.”

“Is it that Iitoki guy? You know-“

“Don’t tell me I shouldn’t have hit him,” Mutsuki turned to look at Shirazu, the one green eye watching the blonde’s expression.

“What? No- I wasn’t going to say that,” and Shirazu didn’t understand in the slightest why that might be Mutsuki’s first assumption of what he was going to say. That didn’t seem fair at all. Ginshi never saw himself as that sort of person in the past. What did Tooru mean by that?

“Good.”

Shirazu ventured to ask, “You really think I’d say that?”

Mutsuki was as thoughtful as he could be in his current condition, “Well, no, I guess not.”

“Good. No, but really, man, don’t let that shit get to you. He’s just one person.”

“He’s not though,” the green-haired Quinx insisted.

Ginshi waited for Tooru to explain. If anyone knew what Ginshi’s silence meant, it would be Tooru. When Ginshi didn’t understand something entirely, he’d wait until Tooru explained it.

“There are a lot of people out there that don’t like foreigners. My mother . . . I don’t know a lot about her, but I know she was Filipina. Being half is bad enough; I can’t imagine what it was like for her twenty years ago. I just don’t get why having a mother from some other country makes me different. Or why being from another country makes Mari different. Or my damn skin color.”

“I have never seen you angry before.”

“Surprise?” Tooru didn’t really care for the comment. He certainly had emotions just like everyone else. He knew that Ginshi meant nothing by it. He’d just been feeling unfulfilled lately, and after being around so many people and the alcohol and that stupid Iitoki, guy- he just wanted to be alone.

“Hhahahahaha, but man, did you hear him the second he was out of the room? ‘It fucking hurts!’ he said.” Shirazu laughed, but not too loudly. The other three in the house were already asleep.

“You heard that?” Mutsuki looked up. Shirazu had a way of making him smile again.

“Yeah. These ears come in handy every once in a while,” and Shirazu tugged on one to indicate how big and useful they were.

Mutsuki laughed, “Good.” And continued laughing, feeling relieved that that guy had actually somewhat suffered for what he’d said. Mutsuki stopped, feeling guilty. Was it okay to feel relieved that someone else had suffered- even if that person was an asshole?

Shirazu laughed, too, relieved that there was at least one person he could make feel better.

“It hasn’t even begun yet,” and Mutsuki was aware he was being vague, but the headache he was developing didn’t allow too much room for him to care.

“What?”

“Well, people are prejudice against people of another color, or race, or ethnicity, or whatever- but half-ghouls, like Sasaki, that’s a big secret. The only people who can show prejudice against him are the people within the CCG who know about it.”

Shirazu was not expecting this conversation at all, but if it was what was really bothering Tooru, then he’d gladly participate if it might make him feel even just a little bit better, “Which is everyone, now, but there’s only Iitoki who’s said anything, and-“

“That’s not it though,” and Tooru’s one eye that wasn’t covered by an eyepatch was watching Shirazu again.

“What do you mean?”

“Matsuri Washuu, too. And, Ginshi, that’s only the meeting we’ve actually been present in. What if there are others?” his tone had changed. He sounded worried.

Shirazu thought over what Tooru was trying to get at, and after a solid minute, he shrugged and threw up his hands in a small gesture of apathy, “Well, what can we do?”

And Tooru’s next words were out before he’d even gotten a chance to consider them, “I don’t even know why I’m talking to you.”

Shirazu was immediately hurt, but he tried not to show it, “What?” but he was a terrible liar.

There was no going back now, so Tooru just attempted to clarify rather than take it back, “You clearly don’t get it.”

“Tooru, you know that if you don’t spell it out for me, I’m not going to-“

“You’ve never had to deal with this before. Do you have any idea how hard I work every day just to feel normal?”

“W-What?” Shirazu was so confused that he actually stuttered.

“Yeah. If it wasn’t hard enough being a hafu, I’m also a Quinx and on top of that I-

“On top of that?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Mutsuki said quickly.

Shirazu didn’t press the subject. How could he. Tooru was never upset like this. How could he possibly make things worse?

“My point is, you bleach your hair, and you have those piercings, and- it’s like you don’t have a care in the world. It’s like you don’t even want to be normal- like you enjoy standing out.” And Tooru’s tone wasn’t loud or even angry, but it was accusatory, and the tone was so new to Shirazu that it didn’t sound like his friend to him at all.

“Well, not exactly, no, but I just don’t give a shit if people don’t like me based on something like that.”

“But don’t you hear the things they say about you? Don’t you feel their eyes on you? Doesn’t it bother you that-“

“No,” and the blonde cut the other off.

“You don’t get it.”

“No, I get it. What I don’t get is why it bothers you.”

“Well, that’s obvious, isn’t it?”

Neither of them said anything for a long while. Tooru was trying to wrap his head around how Ginshi was thinking, and Ginshi was trying to do the same but for Tooru. Neither of them could completely understand the other; they could only understand that each of them thought very differently.

Finally, Ginshi broke the silence, “You care that much about what other people think?”

“You don’t understand, and that’s good,” Mutsuki sighed and stood up to rummage through the cabinet for medicine. It was. It was good that Shirazu didn’t spend time worrying about the opinions of others. It clearly appeared to be working out well for him. It wouldn’t work the same for Tooru, and Tooru knew that.

From those words, Ginshi felt entirely shut out. It was the first time he’d ever felt that way with Tooru, and he hated it. He hated it more than he thought was possible. He felt like Tooru didn’t respect him or trust him or something- He just didn’t like the idea of Tooru not confiding in him, when it was clear that Ginshi could confide in Tooru. No, this wasn’t how friendships were supposed to work.

When Ginshi didn’t say another word, guilt pulled at Mutsuki’s heart. He wasn’t being fair, and he knew it. He was being immature and even a little bit cruel towards his friend. After another long bout of silence between them in which Shirazu had barely breathed, Tooru finally spoke, “I’m sorry, Ginshi.”

Shirazu looked up, and when Mutsuki’s eyes met his, he felt a pain in his chest. He’d never seen Ginshi look so incredibly hurt before, and he had to change that expression immediately, “I’m just tired, and I drank too much, and forget what I said; it’s stupid. I’m sorry.”

Ginshi nodded, giving Tooru a smile that was obviously forced. Tooru knew Ginshi well enough to tell that this smile was just a terrible lie Ginshi was using to make him feel better. He sighed, took the medicine, and pulled on Ginshi’s arm, “Let’s go to bed, okay? We both just need some sleep.”

“Yeah,” Shirazu tried smiling again and made a joke about the next morning. He hoped that their relationship would recover after this. He didn’t like the idea of there being anything that separated them; he depended on Tooru too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope no one was too ooc. Assume they were all drinking- save for maybe Suzuya and Ginshi.  
> I am drowning you in OCs, and there are a couple more to come, but I promise they only exist to serve as plot purposes. /please forgive /and headcanon please forgive  
> Vocabulary-  
> nomihoudai- all you can drink; kanpai- cheers; chosenjin- derogatory name towards Koreans (not commonly used); burikko- a female who pretends to be cute or upholds a cute image (purposefully speaks in a high-pitched voice, etc.); hafu- Japanese term used to refer to anyone who is of mixed race (though Iitoki also uses it to refer to mixed species); doujin- derogatory name towards people of African descent (there are a few; I just picked this one)
> 
> The responses of many of the others in not correcting Iitoki might seem strange, but typically, in Japanese society, people are very non-confrontational, so generally people try to distract rather than argue (as Hiro did). /culture lesson end
> 
> Thank you all for reading! It's going to get messy and intense from here on out. I apologize in advance.


	13. Part 1 - The Day I Said Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm writing Hide's past. The chapter ended up /really/ long, so I am sharing it in two parts. This is part one.

“May I see him?”

He stood in front of Tsuneyoshi Washuu, his grandfather, looking up at him with honest, transparent eyes. His father told him he could hide nothing from his grandfather, and, despite the very limited relationship they had, Hide _did_ trust his father. The blonde had only met his grandfather on a few other occasions, but never before in one in which Hide was actually his employee.

This was not what his father wanted for him, but this is where he’d ended up- kissing the feet of his grandfather and begging him to spare the life of his best friend in exchange for his.

He’d basically willingly sold himself into servitude. Hide’s lifetime devotion to the CCG for Kaneki’s life and treatment as a _human being_.

But if it meant Kaneki would live, it didn’t really matter. _He would have given much more._

When his grandfather spoke, it was slow, but purposeful. It was powerful, but it was also foreign like he was old enough to have transcended his humanity entirely and was now something akin to a god, “It’s best you do. The doctors want to be sure it is acute retrograde amnesia and not merely post-traumatic amnesia.”

“I understand.”

Hide hated his grandfather. He was possibly the only person on the planet he actually hated. Many times he’d tried to put reasoning behind it, but over time he’d realized it was just the culmination of so many unnamable things that questioning his heart in the matter wasn’t really practical. His mother and himself had been fucked over by the Washuu family, and while his father had a hand in it, ultimately it was Tsuneyoshi who was the puppeteer. Hide had never wanted to take up the name, and his father hadn’t wanted it either, but there were some things in life that were unavoidable. At this point, he could only be grateful that he had the option to help Kaneki. It felt like fate, but Hide tried not to dwell on abstract words like that. That would mean Kaneki becoming a ghoul was also that- fate- and deliberating such implications was dangerous.

“And you know what the consequences will be if you jog his memory? If it is retrograde amnesia, that will speed his rate of recall, and if we are to raise him for the purposes of the CCG, you would only be making him useless to us.”

“I understand.”

Of course, he never told his grandfather he hated him, but according to his father, he would never need to. Absolute transparency. Hide was not familiar with the feeling at all. He could see through others, but few- _very few_ \- could see through him. Hide was not accustomed to feeling naked in front of others.

“Did you decide on a name?” his grandfather closed his eyes.

“I’ll let you know after I see him,” and Hide bit the inside of his lower lip. He’d just made a promise to revisit the old bastard.

“You may tell Special Class Arima.” His grandfather didn’t really appear to care- much to Hide’s relief. Either it was that or he could read how much his grandson truly hated being in his presence. They’d never hold the relationship that his grandfather and his paternal brother, Matsuri, held, but that had no effect on Hide what-so-ever. If anything, he was glad. The thought of having anything in common with this withered demon was really just revolting.

“I will.” And, as his father stressed to him, Hide bowed before he left, showing his grandfather as much respect as he could in every word and action.

His grandfather did not say goodbye, and neither did he. They never had bothered with greetings or salutations in the past, and Hide felt no need to make it a habit now.

<><><><><><><><><> 

After a moment of preparing himself, Hide turned the handle and opened the heavy door to the hospital room. “Hello!” he managed in a cheerful tone.

He’d seen his best friend on the brink of insanity- beating his own head against the wall, crying, and screaming incoherently, but somehow, this hurt in a way that that moment or even the memory of that moment never would. His friend was wearing soft white bandages over his eyes, so he couldn’t see, which meant that he didn’t even turn his head toward the voice but remained sitting up in the white hospital bed facing the empty eggshell white wall. Even if there were no bandages wrapped neatly around his head to cover his eyes, he’d be unable to see. His eyes were still regenerating. It had only been about five days, less than a week, but his whole body was healing slowly. It was to be expected. He had just been reborn.

“How are you feeling?” Hide sat down on a stool with wheels beside the bed. He noticed the TV was off. The radio was off. The curtains were open only to show cloudy gray skies with silent drizzle falling outside. Aside from Hide’s voice and the steady beat of the machines that monitored the patient’s vital signs, _life_ was entirely inaudible.

The man with the white hair nodded but still produced no sound in his actions. He looked uncomfortable. Hide guessed it was because his own voice wasn’t the same as the nurse who was currently tending to him. Hide recalled that she had told him that she was the only one who spoke to him, so he would likely respond in this way. Also, she had mentioned that sometimes he didn’t remember her until after a few minutes. These were signs of anterograde amnesia, meaning he was having difficulties making new memories. Though for this moment, that’d work to Hide’s advantage, if Kaneki didn’t recover from that quickly, then he’d be deemed useless by the CCG and there would be nothing Hide would be able to do otherwise. It all depended on his recovery. He had to heal, but not completely. It was tragic, just like everything else that had happened to him recently. Hide had never wanted to add to that. Even sitting here beside him having taken a large part in his current reality, there was still so much Hide didn’t know. What had he been doing the last several months since he’d left Anteiku? Since he’d left _him_? What was so painful or so dangerous that he couldn’t even trust himself to be near his best friend any longer?

The man sitting up in the hospital bed reached for the paper and calligraphy pen on his lap and wrote neatly in fine and careful strokes, _‘Who are you?’_. He did not even use the kanji ‘who’ and wrote entirely in hiragana. As he wrote with his right hand, he spaced with his left thumb so that each character could be spaced, formed, and read evenly. Hide would have found it rather endearing that he would put so much effort to convey meanings through words if it wasn’t for the situation- the situation he was responsible for.

Hide remembered he’d been told that Kaneki’s long-term explicit memory had been thoroughly damaged, but his long-term implicit memory was still intact. He would likely be able to read and write and ride a bicycle if he tried, but, for example, he wouldn’t remember what the recipe for hamburger steak was or even the name of the ingredients should he ever try to cook it. He knew all of the motions, but none of what they were for or what they were called. Perhaps that went for kanji, too. He could remember what they looked like and how to write them, but he could not remember their meaning? Hide tried not to think about it. If he thought about it too long, he’d be consumed with guilt.

Nothing explained why he wouldn’t speak, though. His vocal chords were fine as was his hearing; it was currently just a choice he was making.

Guilt was a cancer that was spreading quickly.

“I’m a doctor, actually. I came by a few times, before your surgery, and I came by a couple days ago. You don’t remember the sound of my voice?” He’d lied, but that was fine. Hopefully, he wouldn’t remember any of this anyway.

The blind man shook his head ‘no’.

“That’s okay,” and Hide laughed a little mostly out of relief. It was good . . . good that his best friend recognized _nothing_ about him at all.

“Well, I’m a vascular specialist, so I’m just going through and checking on the patients’ blood flow. Do you have cramps anywhere? Like your skin is tingling?” He wasn’t sure how bad the amnesia was. There was a possibility that he’d even lost some of his vocabulary or the meanings of words were difficult to decipher, so Hide attempted to clarify everything he said. Vascular specialist? He was pulling things out of thin air that wouldn’t raise suspicion; he was placing his bet on the fact that the anterograde amnesia would work in his favor if he slipped up. No, he wasn’t being as careful as he needed to be, but given the situation, he was doing his best.

The blind man again shook his head ‘no’.

“Do you feel numb anywhere? Is there a place where you have no sensation at all?”

A third time, the blind man shook his head ‘no’.

Hide’s expression fell. No one was looking. It didn’t matter. The patient couldn’t _hear_ the despair that was settling over Hide’s face with every _second_ that he sat beside him.

His tone remained light and friendly, “I’m going to take your hand a moment.”

And when he did, he felt the other flinch.

“It’s okay,” and his voice was far gentler than he’d meant it to be- something sweet in it too intimate to be used between a doctor and his patient.

And Hide touched his fingers gently, carefully, feeling how warm and how calloused they were on the tips and in the palms. How _long_ had it been now? Kaneki’s hands were smaller than his; they always had been- not significantly, but enough that when he intertwined their fingers like so, Hide’s longer digits could overwhelm and pull his friend’s hand closer- closer to his lips where he could place the lightest of kisses like one might place upon a treasured life- a life that, as long as it was still living, meant one could move forward. It was the first period in his life he had spent without his best friend at his side. He’d, for the first time, recognized the meaning of the phrase ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’. He could not show any familiarity towards this empty person in the hospital bed, but his hands had spoken for him, and as soon as his lips touched the clean smooth surface of the other’s hands, the patient pulled his hand away quickly.

When guilt acts as a cancer, it moves through the mind, adhering itself to positive emotions to change and transform them into venomous growths of lingering regret.

Hide straightened and held his breath.

The man with the white hair reached for the brush pen and paper and wrote, _‘I’m fine. Please see other patients.’_ He was visibly shaken, confused, and perhaps even scared from the gentle contact. Despite the kindness in it, it was completely understandable given how helpless his current state left him in. The message took two pages, and it was sloppy, because he couldn’t see what he was actually writing, and he hadn’t taken the time to space the characters out, but Hide could take a hint. Sometimes, he did stupid things- really stupid things. Oftentimes, these stupid things involved his best-friend in some way. Kaneki made him do irrational things. He knew when to stop; he’d just _missed him_ . . . too much- more than he ever _thought_ he would.

“Of course. Thank you,” and he’d decided, so he tested it, “ _Sasaki-san_.”

Sasaki didn’t respond. He sat, unmoving, facing the wall and seeing nothing- silent and still as death.

_Sasaki Haise. I hope it’s a name you can grow to cherish- one you can identify with and one that others will love in the same way Kaneki Ken was loved._

“ _Goodbye_ ,” and, knowing what the consequences on his heart would be, Hide didn’t look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 - "Counting Down the Days Until I See You" will have an OC; I'm so nervous! I hope you can enjoy all of the CCG headcanon at least. T-T   
> /hides in corner and grows mushrooms


	14. Just the Facts - Dec 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **This is not the next chapter** , but you can read it if you like! The next chapter, _[Part 2 - Counting Down the Days Until I See You, was really long, so I made it a side-story that you can read over here.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4222875)_ It's good to read it for the plot stuff, since it tells you what Hide had been doing the past three years, but yeah-  
>  /hides in corner

“Hori,” he stared- shocked. He’d never thought that out of all the people his subordinate could be gathering intel from that person would be none other than Hori Chie.

“Yo, Kaneki.” She was as causal as ever, and she treated the half-ghoul as if they’d just seen each other just the day before. She also didn’t appear to be the least bit surprised to see him. She must have already known about his new identity as Sasaki Haise. Who was he kidding? Of course she knew.

Haise was not as smooth. He was not expecting this at all, and he didn’t know where to begin, so he went through the typical polite motions, “Hori, . . . . how are you?”

“Well aren’t you as easy as ever to read? You always used to act so tough, but you’re not a novel, you’re a children’s picture book.” She smirked, pleased that Kaneki had obviously not changed much despite the fact that his eyes seemed somehow kinder, he was a little more confident in his posture-rather, he didn’t look like he was _trying_ to look threatening- and he now had a job that would easily get him killed in his previous circles. She sighed at his expression. He looked nervous and apologetic. He was never quite the people person. “I’m fine. I’d be better if my favorite subject were in better spirits.”

Finally, after recovering from the shock, the third party member spoke, “You two know each other?” Urie interrupted the conversation with a look of disbelief. His luck really had run out, hadn’t it? This was fucking ridiculous.

“Yeah, so we do. The deal is off, dove. You failed to mention he had his memories back,” Hori was smiling innocently despite the fact that she’d just indirectly admitted to some kind of plan to trick Sasaki had his memories still been gone.

Somehow Kaneki wasn’t the least bit surprised. He wasn’t even upset. It sounded like something she’d do especially if what she was getting out of it was high in value. Just what did Urie have that was valuable? No, what did he _know_?

The violet haired Quinx snapped, “What, but you said that-”

Kaneki was staring daggers in Urie’s direction, “Your ‘deal’- whatever it was- is off, Urie.” He didn’t hide how disappointed he was, “One day, you’ll learn,” and he held back the need to physically respond to his subordinate’s actions, because that apathetic disinterested expression could be so annoying especially when it was there even when it wasn’t appropriate to the situation, “Now, go get us a table inside. The adults are talking.”

Urie was too angry to say anything and quickly went inside. It wasn’t until he was following the hostess to a booth that he realized that Sasaki hadn’t asked him to leave. Why not? Why was he still here? He just as easily could have told him to go back to the chateau. Heck, though at the risk of admitting to the meeting itself, Sasaki could have reported his actions as _insubordination_. There was a chance he still could . . .

Back outside, Kaneki spent only a moment regretting his harsh words before he grew serious, his eyes narrowed. “What did you mean, Hori? About your . . . friend?”

She knew that he knew who her favorite subject was, and the fact that he was showing concern by all means made her relieved- maybe even thrilled. There was hope. Hope was nice. It’d been a while. “It’ll cost you.” Could she use Tsukiyama’s currently pathetic state to her advantage as well?

“What do you want?” His serious tone hadn’t changed. Speaking to someone from his past, he felt himself slide into the familiar role he used to play. His eyes were blank and he was leaning against the side of the building now, arms crossed.

Yes, this could prove very useful to her indeed, “Your blood.” May as well be direct. She hated beating around the bush anyway. She was going to get it through Urie, but now that she knew Kaneki had his memories back, it was simple enough to just ask him for it. Of course, there had been something else she wanted from Urie, but for all she knew, that information could have just been a bluff.

“What?” He had previously been watching Urie move through the restaurant, but his eyes fell on hers when he processed the request. His expression hadn’t changed.

She’d noticed the shift in the atmosphere around him, but it was actually more comfortable for her- like old times, so to speak. Still, what was his problem? She hadn’t asked for a fucking pony. Wasn’t it obvious? “Your blood.”

“You mean that-“ Kaneki was piecing together that she’d give it to Tsukiyama, but what would that do? . . . Other than possibly bring him to some sort of ridiculous food orgasm? Surely it wouldn’t do anything to help his _illness_.

The photographer watched the gears behind his eyes move and impatiently prompted him, “Put two and two together. Yes.”

Kaneki didn’t understand, but if it was for Tsukiyama, that was okay. After all of this time, he would be lying if he claimed that he felt no debt to him, “Okay, that’s fine, sure.”

“He’s real sick. He’s been sick for years,” she added quickly. She used her normal tone. Well, it wasn’t a secret from Kaneki that she was interested in keeping Tsukiyama alive for her own reasons, so whatever. It’s not like Kaneki had the brains to use that against her. That, very clearly, was not his forte.

Kaneki was not as quick as he needed to be this evening. In all honesty, he was a little distracted with how incredibly dangerous of a position he was in currently. He didn’t even notice the crack in her voice. Tsukiyama had always been sick in the head in his opinion so, “Well, yeah, he-“

“No, idiot, physically. He is weak and hardly ever leaves his room. He’s worse than a vampire.”

He could hear the desperation creeping into her voice now. Oh, she was serious. He was seriously ill. “What can I do?”

“Just give me what I ask,” she responded quickly.

“Of course.” Blood. Easy.

“So?” she visibly relaxed and stretched her arms above her head, inhaling as she did so.

His eyes got a little wider, “So, really though . . . are you doing okay?”

In response, she exhaled quickly and rolled her eyes, “When am I ever not okay? Damn boys think a woman’s always got problems that need solving-” He was reminding her of Kanae, and she knew better than to take her frustrations with Kanae out on Kaneki, but it didn’t matter. Men were idiots.

“What?” and Kaneki blinked, looking entirely innocent of whatever he had just been accused of.

She sighed and let her shoulders fall as she exhaled, “-Nevermind. Look, you need information, right?”

“Yes,” and his serious expression had returned.

“So, spill,” she moved to lean against the wall beside him, and internally, Haise just felt grateful that he was around a human that knew his secret and still called him ‘ _friend_ ’.

“Anything you can tell me about the Washuu family is vital.”

“You want to know about someone within the CCG?” and she was watching Urie through the restaurant window wondering absently if he could read lips. If he was Kaneki’s subordinate and Kaneki wasn’t doing anything about it, then she could probably rest easy. Then again, there was a possibility that Kaneki hadn’t even thought of it.

“Yes.”

“Well, what the hell? You have access to the database, likely more than I know myself, why the hell would you ask-?

“No, Hori, I don’t.” After the party, he’d spent the early morning going through the guest list from the ceremony. From there, he’d had to individually look up each name. The person in question had been standing in-between Matsuri and Yoshitoki Washuu. From that, he’d gathered that he must have been a Washuu as well. However, nothing was coming up when he searched him. “There is hardly any of their info I can access and anything in there is incredibly vague. I can’t even get to the rumors, because- it’s like no one will even talk about them in my presence- like everyone got some sort of weird memo demanding to keep it a secret from me.”

Chie raised an eyebrow and looked up at him, “You’ve always been this ego-centric?”

“I’m serious, Hori. It’s strange.”

“Well, when you access the database, do you have to log in?”

“Yes.”

“Then I guess that’s possible. Someone’s trying to keep the information from you.” She shrugged, “Look, I’ll tell you everything I know. I’ll even _do_ an investigation on them to find out everything I _don’t_ know.”

She was adding in extras. “For?”

“Visit him.”

“What?! You know I can’t-” he uncrossed his arms and turned to look down at her.

“Like I said, you’re a picture book. You want this information more than anything else in the world right now. So, give me what I want, and I’ll give you what you want.”

Kaneki considered the price, and said aloud, “You really care about him.”

“He’s just sick; I'm just bored,” she responded automatically. 

That honesty affected Kaneki more than he’d expected, “Is he dying? Do you really think that I can do anything about this?”

“He’s not _eating_ , Kaneki. If he _does_ eat, he claims anything is fine, because it all tastes the _same_.”

Even if one didn’t know the Gourmet on a personal level, this was reason to cause alarm, “What?”

“You heard me. I just don’t understand. He’s been like this for almost three years. I hate it. I want the old Shuu back.” she admitted.

“ . . . . I think there is a way.” He could be mistaken, but if Tsukiyama really valued his _flavor_ so much in the past, then it was worth a _try_.

“Payment first.”

“Hori. I can’t.” Kaneki was firm.

“Payment first, Kaneki. You owe me. And him.” And so was Chie.

“Hori. I _physically can’t_.” He pulled up a trouser leg and revealed the anklet, but only for a split second. He could feel Urie’s eyes on him. Of course he’d gotten a window seat.

It made sense. Kaneki was telling the truth. She couldn’t argue with him when every movement of his was being tracked. Unless . . . “I’ll give the information I have now.” She turned her back to the restaurant window, “You get rid of the anklet- I don’t care how- and come see Tsukiyama. Then, I’ll tell you everything I have uncovered in my investigation. Got it?”

Kaneki didn’t hesitate. It was fair. “Fine, but doing this could possibly mean putting him _and_ you in danger with the CCG.”

“Then you better do it _right_ ,” she bit back, knowing that Kaneki would do everything he could to protect her and Tsukiyama if it was necessary. He was a nice guy, and it was clear from the way he responded to her that that much hadn’t changed, “If anything happens to either of us you’ll have worse shit to deal with than the damn CCG.” She meant the Tsukiyama family, but the meaning was lost on him.

The half-ghoul sighed and, finally, a smile came to his lips.

“I’m honestly glad I got to see you again.”

Chie was smiling back, “Yeah, great to see you, too, though I’m questioning your life choices. The CCG? Those asshats don’t know their damn left from their right. I don’t know how they can live with themselves walking around in white when they’re so morally gray. I guess it’s fitting only in that death follows them everywhere.”

Sasaki actually laughed at her rather accurate depiction, “Yes, _I_ am one of those asshats, now.”

“No, at least, . . . you’d better not be” and her tone had a touch of uncharacteristic sorrow, “ . . . for his sake.”

Haise attempted a laugh, but it fell short.

“You’ve always been a good guy, Kaneki.” her words sounded empty, but Kaneki was surprsied to hear them at all.

“ . . . . Thanks, Hori.”

“But, really, I don’t know what the hell he sees in you,” she said under her breath.

“What?” Kaneki hadn’t heard that exactly.

“I said ‘I need a picture for until he sees you.’”

“Well . . .” that didn’t sound like the best idea.

“Here, I’ll just snap one with my phone,” and with all of the stealth of a ninja, she had already snapped it and tucked her phone away into hammer space.

“What?!” he went pale. No one could know he was meeting with Chie Hori and, in conjunction to that, with other ghouls. He’d be crucified.

“Calm down,” she smirked.

“ . . . We’ve always trusted you, Chie,” he remembered all of the times her information had come in handy during that time he’d lived with Banjou, Hinami, and the others.

“Yeah, so, don’t get your panties in a wad. You can trust me now, too,” she assured him.

Kaneki smiled, “We can go in now.”

“What? Seriously? With that brat? You’re okay with him hearing this?” Kaneki had certainly . . . changed in other ways.

“I’ll agree that he can be difficult, but he needs me to trust him right now,” and his smile was wide, like he was genuinely enjoying himself.

“You don’t make any sense, Kaneki- _sensei_.”

“Well, I’m trying . . .” Sasaki opened the door to the restaurant for her and they went inside.

<><><><><><><><><><><><> 

Inside, Sasaki slid into the booth beside Urie and Chie slid in opposite of them. Urie hit the button to call a waiter over. They all ordered, Chie’s lengthy requests making up for Haise’s simple black coffee, and once the waiter was gone, Chie relaxed in her seat.

“So, tell me what you know,” Sasaki prompted, tone light.

“So, basically, there are two schools of thought presently. Onitsuneyoshi is old as balls. His days are numbered. Washuu Yoshitoki isn’t taking the position. Everyone knows this. He won’t even be forced into it even though he is the most qualified in the family. He doesn’t want it. He’s made it clear for years. He’s smart, but no one seems to know what the fuck he’s thinking. Still, the CCG falls on tradition as it has for the last couple centuries, though before, it wasn’t really an established government agency like it is now, which means the CCG goes to one of two people- Washuu Matsuri or Washuu Hideyoshi.”

Kaneki just stared. This was too much to accept. Had he just heard that correctly?

Chie misinterpreted his expression, “Now that, sounds funny to you, right? Well, it’s not. Thanks to our backwards traditions, one of those two people are about to land a multi-trillion yen government agency simply because they were born into a particular family. You would think that shit would be over with, but nope-”

 Kaneki was silent.

“Kaneki?” she tried.

Knowing Urie was now in their presence, Kaneki corrected her, “Sasaki, please.” He needed to hear what she said again, “His name. Can you say it again?”

Then, it clicked for Hori, “Oh right, the little brother is Hideyoshi. Hide is what he goes by if I remember correctly. You went to school with him, right?”

Kaneki was entirely serious once more, “How do you know these things?”

“It’s my job to know these things. Who is he to you?”

Urie was watching both of them go back and forth with his eyes sharp on his superior’s expressions. Why the hell was Sasaki trusting him with all of this? It didn’t make sense.

“My best friend,” came Kaneki’s reply. He licked his chapped lips. He had wanted to find Hide, but he had not expected something like this.

“Your best friend?” Chie raised an eyebrow, “Why the hell are you asking about-“

The half-ghoul interrupted, “I haven’t been beside him since he joined the CCG.”

“Oh- the amnesia. I get it.”

“Yes . . .”

“So, what are you going to do now that you know?”

Urie watched his mentor’s eyes cloud over. He’d never seen him like this. There was something off about it- something dark.

“I don’t know.”

He noticed Hori wasn’t affected by the change in atmosphere at all. She even seemed to be teasing him, “Your best friend is a Washuu, and you didn’t even know?”

Sasaki blinked, and the expression was gone, “Well, in my defense, he never told me. I never met his father; he never even talked about him.”

“A Washuu.” Hori rolled her eyes and relaxed back in her seat.

“I know. I know. This isn’t easy to swallow for me, either.”

“Okay, I’ll dig up what I can. Just uphold your end of the bargain,” the truth was that there was more she knew, but while Kaneki seemed to trust the other dove at the table, she certainly didn’t. He looked like a wolf on the hunt.

“Of course.”

“Then we’re set. Thanks, Urie! Pleasure doin’ business with you!” and her comment was meant to piss him off, and he recognized that, so in response, he just put his headphones back on.

When the food arrived, Sasaki kept the conversation going with Hori. They chatted about current events- what was going on in Japan and the rest of the world. Anytime Hori caught that Kaneki might mention something from the past, she’d steer the conversation elsewhere. All the while, Urie said nothing, eating his food in silence as he observed Sasaki interacting with Hori- someone from his past.

He was already thinking of ways to get back at Shirazu when he got back. For now, he’d just use his bike as if it really were his. He’d never admit it to the other Q, but it was actually a pretty nice set of wheels and he’d need to use something if he was going to get to :re outside its business hours .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, reader! You’re so awesome for staying with me on this long journey! T-T You’re still here! /throws confetti  
> So, three of our precious Qs will be in surgery a while, but I promise you it won’t be boring in that time. Please expect Amon, Akira, Tsukiyama, Nishio, and another trip to :re~! (We have Christmas in that time, after all~!)  
> Thanks again!


	15. Kindred Spirit - Dec 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your kindness! Now the chapters that aren't super long feel super short! Oh no!  
> /sigh

When he returns to Cochlea for the sixth time that week, it’s a Sunday. The air is too cold, and when he opens his mouth to yawn, there’s an instant regret, because his tongue and gums go dry and stale and he’s reminded of the film on his teeth. From this angle, the walls are thin with no seams and the floor is a slick gray surface that causes every shoe to verbally protest. The hallways weren’t quite the same when you’re a prisoner, and he notices the differences with every visit. The guards engage in conversation with one another and don’t blink an eye as he passes. As he walks to the front desk, he signs in without so much as an exchange of greetings. Identification verified.  Typical visit. Typical Sunday. He’s Sasaki Haise, First Class Investigator.

Haisaki isn’t present. If he is, his presence is unknown to Sasaki. He hasn’t seen him since that time, and it is just as well. His fist tightened at the thought of seeing him again. Sometimes Kaneki wondered if he was stronger as he was now or if Sasaki had him beat. Did his memories make him stronger or weaker? He still hadn’t figured that out. The grunt that had worked with Doumeki, Kuroda, was nowhere to be found, either. He didn’t know how it could have been achieved, but it was possible that Kuroda had followed Doumeki to the research department. It meant, at least, that Kuroda wasn’t doing any damage to _here_.

Once he reaches the B1 floor, a door is opened for him. Greetings- this time. Identification verified. Typical visit. Typical request. He walks in full strides to the same familiar room and waves off any assistance offered. The hum of the ventilation system from the room he had arrived in is just loud enough to be noticeable, constant, and annoying. He waits in a plastic chair as he eyes the camera in the right corner of the room. There are the same eyes behind him in the opposite corner where the wall meets the ceiling as well. Is anyone really watching?

He notices the familiar sound of metal on concrete first. What comes next is the scent of the blood he’s tasted. His sense of smell is better than his hearing, but the hall leading to the interrogation rooms echoes without human noise to fill it. Cochlea is one of the few places in Japan where the ghouls outnumber the humans, and that fact hovers through the air in an ever-present thick mist.

The prisoner is lead through the room and is seated in the chair opposite of Sasaki. The chains are heavy, but not because they are many; they are thick. A guard clad in gray hands Sasaki a remote with three buttons. He accepts it with indifference, because the guards need to feel safe; to him, it’s entirely unnecessary.

“First Class Sasaki, you know the drill.”

“Yes, thank you,” and he smiles because he’s glad to see a familiar guard- one who has accepted that inescapable thick mist and addresses it accordingly. It makes the process go more smoothly.

As soon as the door is shut and the two half-ghouls are alone, Kaneki inhales deeply, and as he exhales, his expression rests on a kind smile, “Good afternoon.” He enjoys this though the circumstances could certainly be better.

Amon Koutarou, the Samurai, doesn’t relax his posture. He never does. However, his expression is neutral, and that tells Kaneki that today is probably a good day for whatever reason. In the monotony of prison, little things can make all the difference, “. . . Good afternoon.” Amon is not ignorant of Kaneki’s good intentions; he’s never been ignorant of those.

Still, like back then, he doesn’t completely understand them.

“I want to ask about Takizawa Seidou.”

“You’re the only one that visits.” It had been eight days now.

Kaneki watched Amon with interest. They’d met on five previous occasions thus far, and each time he felt he was enjoying it a little more; there was something important to be gained in the conversations he had with Amon Koutarou- something he hadn’t named but knew was present. Sasaki tried to be thoughtful of his words if only because he knew what Cochlea was, and he knew that the wrong ones might mean losing Amon forever. Kaneki, perplexed, held his chin in the space between his index finger and his thumb, “ . . . They say it’s too hard.”

In Cochlea your stay is one of two things- temporary or permanent. Temporary means that once you’ve been used up for whatever you can offer strategically, the ultimate sacrifice is made; you’re killed for your _organs_. The kakuhou is extracted and a quinque is made. Your reapers break and tear apart your body so they can reap even more of your kind. If you are a permanent resident, you’re valuable. You’re _even_ more valuable than a new quinque weapon. Those that fall into this category are rare, but there are plenty enough that there is a floor where they’re kept. Donato waits there. Sachi had been freed from there. Kaneki was imprisoned there for a month after his memories had returned. And now Amon Koutarou, the Samurai, was shut away behind a solid iron door, shackled like a beast in a cage.

But while there are many things that separate beasts from men, loneliness is not one of them.

A noise could be heard from the shackled half-ghoul that was something between a grunt and a growl.

Kaneki added, “Well, Akira-san doesn’t say anything.” He knew about their history. The gossip had been rampant since he’d mentioned Amon weeks ago. Weeks. It had been weeks since they’d started the meetings for the Samurai mission? It felt like it’d been months.

Akira Mado was the last person Koutarou wanted to talk about, so he switched the subject back to Kaneki’s original request, “What do you want to ask about Takizawa?”

“You know you don’t have to tell me about anything you don’t want to.” Kaneki knew what it was like to be in the other chair. The chains. The constant threat of death. Uncertainty. He saw none of that in Amon, and he couldn’t help but admire his strength.

Amon tapped his fingers in a wave on his knee, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly. “I wouldn’t.”

Sasaki set the remote he’d been holding under his chair and straightened his back, “Thank you.”

The words of gratitude actually brought on another twitch of Koutarou’s lips. If he were the same man he had been three years ago, he may have laughed. The kindness Eyepatch was showing him was not appropriate for a CCG Investigator to show a ghoul. They’d completely switched places. He was now a murdering half-ghoul and Eyepatch had become a First Class Investigator. It wasn’t fate; it was a challenge. Truly, a challenge he’d never expected. Eyes closed and legs parted, he waited for Eyepatch to begin with his interrogation.

Instead, Sasaki put his legs together and rested his empty fingers on his knees. His posture was perfect- rigid and proper. Even in these subtle ways, they had traded lives. He voiced their mutual respect, “I never would have expected this situation, honestly, but- ” no, he couldn’t voice the second part. Maybe Koutarou would understand. If someone had told him he’d be working for the CCG three years ago, he would have done more than laughed.

“Takizawa.”

“Right . . .The CCG wants to capture him.” Kaneki clarified their intentions. He was sure to say the _CCG_ was in favor of this not that it was his own mission or goal.

“Why?” Amon honestly wanted to know what Eyepatch had been told. He could guess rather easily the intentions of the CCG, but it was possible the powers that be would attempt to use both of by casting them in roles unnecessary to completing the mission.

“That’s a pretty valid question, I guess. I’m not 100% sure why. Of course, I’m sure the desire to save him is part of it,” Sasaki’s tone remained gently professional despite the fact that the cameras picked up no sound. He wasn’t doing it for himself, either, because while he appreciated the simplicity provided by following rules, he didn’t particularly care to make the effort when alone. No, he respected Amon. He had respected Amon all this time, and even with how the tables had turned, his respect for the other man had only grown.

“Save him?” The Samurai leaned back in the plastic chair, but didn’t relax. His neck stretched as his head fell back to glance at the camera in the corner behind Sasaki before he moved to meet his eyes again. “Save him.”

“See, I wanted to ask you about that, too, personally- I  . . . I never knew him before . . . I mean, before, when he was human,” and somehow those words were pretty easy to say when he wasn’t talking about himself, “But-but I wonder if he wants to be saved.”

“Of course not,” Amon answered quickly, entirely convinced that this was the obvious truth. It’s how he saw it anyway.

Haise’s expression fell serious suddenly, and the kindness in his voice was gone, “I see, so that means-”

“As you must have gathered, he’s happier this way.”

“Happier?” It sounded strange- to be happier as a ghoul than as a human. He could name plenty of ghouls that would disagree let alone the number of humans that would protest.

Amon considered his wording. It was true that he’d never been very good with words. Maybe that wasn’t the right one. “He doesn’t want to be saved.” That was more accurate. He only somewhat understood Takizawa’s actual feelings. Despite their similar circumstances, Amon could not describe what _madness_ felt like, because that was a line he’d never crossed.

“Because he can’t go back?”

Amon heard all the words in-between, “Yes.”

Sasaki leaned forward slightly and, with his elbow on his knee, sunk a hand into his white hair, “He’s dangerous, though.”

“That’s a much better reason for capturing him, though I don’t see the point in that, either,” Amon offered.

Sasaki looked up and straightened again, “What reason would you think is legitimate?”

“There are none for his capture,” and after a beat, he added, “He should be killed.” Amon had seen what he was. Takizawa Seidou embraced life as a ghoul, because life as a human was no longer an option. Amon understood to some extent, but, again, not fully. Unlike Takizawa, he hadn’t lost his mind. Unlike Takizawa, they hadn’t _broken_ him.

“I see.” Kaneki considered the words carefully, knowing there were many things Amon was aware of that he hadn’t seen. If he filled in the blanks himself, however, he only saw blood, and sadly, the probability of that being accurate was rather high, “I think I can understand what you’re saying, but I don’t think they’ll agree to it.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Those three words told Sasaki the most desirable outcome for everyone involved. Those three words told Sasaki where the responsibility would fall.

Sasaki changed the subject, “Have you seen Donato?” He’d read the files. Everything on Amon Koutarou was accessible to him now that he was in his temporary possession.

“No.”

The finality in his tone ended that conversation quickly. Of course they wouldn’t let him see him even if he had wanted to. Still, Donato had been the closest thing Amon had to a father. Sasaki treaded carefully, “Do you want to?”

“No.”

Haise said nothing and Amon watched him. He didn’t quite understand why Eyepatch would be asking him these questions, but, feeling a parallel with him, he added, “Even if I’ve gained some perspective, there is still no reason for what he did. He deserves to rot in here.” If there was a reason, Koutarou still didn’t understand it. He wasn’t giving his _father_ the benefit of the doubt. It was time he’d been laid to rest.

Sasaki moved on, “Have they said anything about your trial?”

He noticed that Eyepatch was being rather personal today. Amon crossed his arms in front of his chest and as he did, the quinque metal of the chains clinked together as constant reminders of the situation, “It has been dismissed.”

Kaneki’s fingers gripped his knees, and he went stiff as his eyes grew wide, “What?!”

Amon blinked at his reaction, seeing in the other’s eyes an honest abhorrence towards the verdict, “Ghouls do not have the right to a trial.” And Amon actually shrugged, “They’re classifying me as ghoul.” It couldn’t be helped. Of course they would. That’s what he was now.

“What? Amon-you can’t- We have to-” Sasaki always felt the ticking of the clock.

“You don’t owe me anything, Eyepatch.”

Sasaki regained his composure and resumed his business appropriate posture. His eyes studied the shackles around Amon’s ankles. “. . . That doesn’t matter.”

The Samurai sighed. Something in him stirred. Eyepatch was such a child. He still had so much left to learn.

“I know I don’t have to, but, I would want someone to do it for me. I would want someone to see me as human in your situation,” Sasaki admitted, doing well to keep his voice steady and his tone neutral. “Have they sentenced you?”

“No, that’s what I’m waiting on,” and Amon uncrossed his arms and rested his hands on his knees once more.

“You could be an informant,” Sasaki offered.

“I only know so much,” Amon responded casually.

Sasaki insisted, “You could make it up.”

“For a time,” he admitted for the other’s sake.

“You only really have the one option,” and Kaneki’s tone was serious, his eyes searching the depths of the prisoner’s.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” and his words were stern once more doing more than matching the threat in Kaneki’s words.

Kaneki stood, “Don’t choose _death_ over the CCG. What about Akira- you-”

Amon appeared unaffected by the investigator’s accusations. “Don’t talk like you understand everything.”

“I’m sorry,” and Sasaki sat down. He’d realized his mistake. He was letting this become personal. It didn’t need to be. No, it _shouldn’t_ be. He only knew one thing; he couldn’t let Amon Koutarou die.

Finally, Amon smiled softly. “ . . . You’re kind.” He understood.

And when Sasaki saw it, he smiled in return, “I get that a lot.” For the briefest moment, neither of them were human or ghoul; they were just two men attainting a meager but mutual understanding.

“It’s not the best quality to have in your line of work.”

Koutarou spoke from experience. Haise understood that.

Haise looked away and his eyes fell once more to the shackled ankles of the broad-shouldered man, “I just try to do what I think is right . . .” and that was true. It had gotten him into quite a lot of trouble in the past. It did at times even now. “Look, it’s my fault you’re in here,” and his gray eyes met the other’s.

“It’s not.”

No, Kaneki felt the need to take responsibility for this. No, not just this, but the rest of it as well, “ . . . Regardless of how you may feel-“

“I don’t want to die.” he admitted this as a promise that he _wouldn’t_ die, and in his honesty, he’d given consent to receiving help, “I still have a lot to do.”

Haise smiled genuinely, “Good. Good, then I’ll see what I can do.” He stood and breathed a sigh of relief.

They were both in chains; one was just carrying a weight more obvious than the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope it was still enjoyable!  
> In another life, I think these two would become pretty close! T-T
> 
> Also, these are Amon's feelings on Takizawa. They may or may not be accurate, riiiight?


	16. Found You- Dec 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, most of you know know I have all of the outlines of the chapters finished and that I fill in as I go. I was sooooo close to deleting this chapter-ah, but . . . I'm glad I didn't T-T I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Also, thank you all so much for the 400+ kudos. I've diverted from canon so much, but you guys are still enjoying it, and that makes me so happy. I hope you can continue to enjoy it and you don't get too overwhelemed with all of the . . . stuff. Thank you!

The Sunday morning sun was beautiful on the buildings of Nishi-Shinjuku, and with the CCG Headquarters being the tallest skyscraper among a forest of them, it felt like he was looking down at crystal towers from the forty-fifth floor. A few blocks over was the Tokyo Metropolitan Government building, and while it wasn’t as glamorous as some of the others, it certainly had more character than some of them. The clarity in the sky that morning made Fuji visible, and he appreciated mornings like this, because more often than not, he never saw anything beyond the sea of skyscrapers, buildings, apartments, and streets that made up the greater Tokyo area. Of course there was a refuge from the stench of the city; it was something he could see, though, not something he could ever quite reach. Kaneki had never really cared much about nature previously. Rather, he didn’t have strong feelings for it one way or another, but working in a building as tall as this one and being taunted by the beauty of Fuji every so often certainly built up desire over time. He didn’t have the freedom to leave the city whenever he wanted. That could have something to do with it as well. You never realize what something is worth until it’s gone. At least he’d always have books. There was no one else around, so Sasaki left the blinds up and turned to his cubicle. He sat at his desk and, after staring at the screen a full minute, he tried once more to search the database this time typing in “Washuu Hideyoshi”. The search was recognized. One result.

**No picture available.**

**Title: Minister of Foreign Relations**  
**Start Date: 9/17/xxxx**  
**Status: Currently Employed**  
**Sex: M**  
**Age: 23**  


That was it. Well, he’d found him in the database, sure, but that couldn’t have been _it_. Haise could search almost anyone in the CCG database and at least get their birthday or history or _anything_ more than _this_.

_Minister of Foreign Relations? What does that even mean?_

A title like that meant he wasn’t currently employed as an investigator, but he wasn’t in research either or any branch in the CCG for that matter. Diplomacy? If it was really such an important position, why wasn’t there anything here in the database on him?

The Commission for Counter Ghoul worked in conjunction with the Japanese government, but it wasn’t the same thing as being a member of the government. Technically, if they received funding from the government that made them state employees, but- Where did Hide fit in to all of this? Kaneki leaned forward over the keyboard and shut off the monitor of the PC and then leaned back in his desk chair. He could remember what Arima said the night before the Samurai operation.

_Why would I be killed if I knew more about him? That doesn’t make any sense._

He remembered what Arima said at the party, too.

_“He had the opportunity to meet with you again, and he didn’t. You need to respect that decision.”_

_How are you protecting me, Hide? Why won’t you see me? Why is it dangerous for me to be involved with you?_

“Hide . . .”

Haise closed his eyes and remembered the image he’d burned into his mind from the ceremony Friday. It made sense now why the brunette was standing between Washuu Matsuri and Washuu Yoshitoki. That man, the one Sasaki could now identify beyond any doubt as Hide, had the same facial structure, was the right height, and had generally looked the same, but- But, Kaneki hadn’t been entirely convinced that night that it was him. Why?

Well, his hair, for one thing, was brown now. He’d stopped bleaching it. It made sense, he guessed, if he was some sort of diplomat now. At least in Japan, bleached hair didn’t give the best first impression as it was synonymous with play boys and thugs. Still, even when it wasn’t exactly kosher for him to do it in school, he still had. Kaneki could still remember the many failed attempts of a few of his middle school teachers that had tried to get him suspended for the hairstyle. It had never worked. Through elementary, middle, high school, and even University, Hide had continued to bleach his hair. If he had grown it out now, it certainly made him _look_ different.

There’d been other things, though. For one, he hadn’t been smiling. It was small, but, to Kaneki, who associated Hide with _happiness_ , it felt strange to see Hide look so incredibly serious for so long. It wasn’t that he couldn’t be serious; of course he could. It was just that it was out of character for him to go so long without being distracted and making a joke or making fun of something he’d seen or anything- His expression had been so empty, so cold, and so apathetic. Kaneki didn’t think Hide could even manage to look so passive, but he had. He looked like he didn’t want to be present at the ceremony at all.

His lips had been closed. During the ceremony, at least the last fifteen minutes after Haise had noticed him, his eyes never looked away from whoever had been speaking at that moment. Hide’s eyes that were usually wide, shining, and laughing were now narrowed, dim, and silent.

“A diplomat?” he smiled a little before his features fell into a frown. The idea of Hide being in such a position was hard to believe, incredible, but also . . . he could see him rising to those challenges. Politics were never something that Hide was interested in. He could remember studying them in high school and Hide complaining that they all sounded like children arguing over the tiniest things like who got to ride the slide first and who could swing the highest. “You would hate that, wouldn’t you?  . . . What happened to you? If I could just talk to-”

“Talking to yourself, Sasaki? Haven’t you heard, ‘ _think lightly of yourself and deeply of the world’_?”

Sasaki sat up suddenly and turned his chair to see Ui Koori. He tried to laugh it off as the words Ui had said to him the day he’d left Cochlea the last time echoed through his mind, _“-_ _he’s betting you’d kill anyone who laid a finger on you.”_

“Special Class Ui, good morning!” Sasaki surprised himself sometimes with how easy it was to smile.

Koori returned the smile in response to his reaction, “My, I see you’re back to your old self First Class Sasaki?” Koori had been the person to pick Haise from Cochlea when he still had death in his eyes and could only see food walking the streets of Tokyo.

Kaneki relaxed as much as was plausible in the Special Class investigator’s presence, “I’m doing well, thank you. You’re a fan of Miyamoto Musashi?” Kaneki was surprised. The man had been known for his achievements as a samurai, not a philosopher, but apparently Ui had read his work if he was quoting him.

Ui paused and reflected on the question, folding his arms in and holding his elbows in either hand despite a folder being in one, “Hmm, I wouldn’t call myself a fan, per-se. I do enjoy a wide variety of literature, however.”

“Really?” Kaneki felt himself get a little excited. This conversation was a lot _safer_ in comparison to what they’d discussed before.

“Yes, though lately I’ve been reading more modern works,” Koori was relaxed, and that helped Kaneki.

He ventured sharing something from another lifetime, “When I-when I was attending University, I was studying Japanese literature.”

“Really, now? And what are you studying now, Sasaki- on a Sunday?” Koori raised an eyebrow at the blank monitor and the lack of open files on Sasaki’s desk.

Kaneki cracked his middle and then index finger on his right hand, “Oh, I just- I was just reviewing some old files pertaining to Torso. I just finished.” It was an obvious lie.

“Ah, I see,” but Ui’s expression never fell.

“And yourself, Ui?” Kaneki noticed the manila folder in his right hand.

“Oh this?” he held it up, “Kishou hasn’t told you?”

Sasaki blinked and shook his head. Why did he keep assuming that Arima shared so many things with him?

“Well, we’ll begin an Owl investigation soon, so I’m just preparing for the first meeting.”

“Owl?” Was it who he thought?

“Takizawa Seidou,” Ui clarified without missing a beat, “He escaped from an encounter between Akira and Arima during the Auction raid. He hasn’t been active since, but it seems like his case is being handled separate from Aogiri Tree.”

Haise took in the information, “So, Special Class Arima won’t be working on it?”

“No, I guess not. I’m just assisting him in compiling what information we have already on Owl before it’s assigned to a squad.”

“I see.” So, even though it had been confirmed that Takizawa Seidou was a product of Aogiri and still affiliated with Aogiri, the CCG was choosing to treat _him_ specifically as a special case. Was it because he was like Amon?

“Who knows? With how well your Quinx Squad did with Samurai, perhaps you’ll be first in line?”

Kaneki laughed awkwardly, “Perhaps . . .” and he let that hang on the air. He wasn’t sure he could handle taking in someone like that again even if he, himself, had no history with Takizawa Seidou.

Getting back to work, the Special Class investigator turned his back to him and began walking out, waving behind him as he did so, “Take a break, Sasaki. ‘ _Be detached from desire’_ , right?”

“Ah, right . . .” and Kaneki felt his cheeks go warm. His response had been too quiet for the other to actually hear him. Could Ui really see through him? What desire was he even referring to?

And with that, Ui was already at the elevator. Sasaki let out a sigh. He couldn’t let little things like this get to him. What was he even doing here? The chateau was too quiet, for one thing. He hadn’t visited Amon yet today. It would get his mind off of his personal problems, at least. He tidied his already pristine desk, looked out at the city a moment before closing the blinds, and then made his way towards the elevator as well.

He hadn’t brought the car today; it was more of a way to get from place to place or respond to an emergency with all of the squad at once. When he was alone like this, he nearly always used the trains.  The CCG would reimburse taxi fees if there was a real emergency. Haise checked his watch and decided he could afford a walk around Shinjuku Central Park. It was small, really, but even in that limited space, he could at least breathe a little easier. He was walking along the sidewalk littered with the same manicured trees across the street from the front gate of the Tokyo Metropolitan Government building when he stopped at the crosswalk. There were five lanes of traffic, but he knew; it had to be. There, on the other side of the street was him- his best friend.

“Hide!”

<><><><><><><><><><><> 

Hide, wearing his typical business attire even on a Sunday, turned to see who was calling him despite the fact that he could easily pick that particular voice out of a crowd. He felt his heart sink. Five lanes of traffic and it was plain as day who the man on the other side of the crosswalk was. He couldn’t do this now.

Anna turned as well, her long black hair pinned up in every which way as an attempt to keep it out of her face but not to actually look pretty. White and pink five-petaled flowers had been built together in a corsage over her eyepatch.

“What do you want to do?” she looked up at Hide, who, despite it only being eleven in the morning, already looked like he was ready to pass out. A morning of meetings with Japanese politicians and leftover jetlag could do that.

Hide met her single eye and watched as one of the pride of china flowers fell from the leather eyepatch and got lost with the wind. The brunette turned his back to the street, “Now’s not the time. Can you take care of it?”

“Of course,” and she patted him on the back to push him in the direction of the park. The nearest station entrance was only about a hundred meters away. If Hide could make it there before his precious best friend, then he’d be able to take the train and dodge the bullet.

“Don’t do anything crazy,” and he turned to look behind him and eyed her briefly before facing forward again and taking off down the sidewalk.

“I’d never hurt your little Anemone,” she said under her breath before turning around to see the man in question running through the traffic of the street. When she looked back, she noticed that Hide had started sprinting for the exit.

She took a deep breath, “Shit, this’ll be interesting.”

<><><><><><><><><><><><> 

“Hide!”

He was running away.

_Why are you running?! What the hell is going on? Why are you running from me? Hide, what are you doing?! Why are you running? Why?! Hide!_

It was clearly Hide, and he was- he was running in the opposite direction.

“Hide!” he reached the other side of the crosswalk, but before he could make his way past the park entrance, the woman with black hair stepped in front of him suddenly and consumed his entire field of vision, “Hello!” Her smile was so plastic, he had to look away to keep from feeling nauseous.

“Hide!” He tried to go around her, but she stepped in front of him again, “What? You-?” Upon closer inspection she was clearly a foreigner. Maybe his age. Why was she here? What did it matter?

“Hide, wait!” Haise’s eyes were wide in desperation, and when he yelled, the panic in his voice was evident.

She placed her hands on his shoulders to keep him from moving and he immediately ducked out of her touch, taking a step back in the process, Was she trying to provoke him? “Kaneki Ken, right?” She looked entirely unaffected by his clear repulsion towards her touch.

“What?” He didn’t have time for this. “–Hide!” And he was gone. Had he gone underground into the station exit?! If he got on the subway then-, “Damn it!” He tried running around her again, but she caught him, and he realized then that she was much stronger than she looked.

“Ah-ah-” she sounded like she was berating an infant for reaching for a flame.

He violently pulled away from her again and took a step back to create distance once more, “What are you doing? Who are you?” The flowered eyepatch. No, he’s seen her before. She was the woman that had been standing behind Hide at the ceremony. Of course. At the time, he’d thought her strange. Not only was she in no uniform of any kind, but she was a foreigner, and on top of that, she had this strange flowered eyepatch over her right eye- the same eye as Mutsuki. And, here she was a second time and with Hide, again.

“Name’s Anna. Nice to meet you. Hide has told me so much about you,” and this time her smile seemed more genuine.

“What?” Hide talked about him. Talked about him to her.

What the hell was going on? Hide was _running away_ from him. Hide was telling _her_ about _him_? “I don’t-Hide-” He tried again to pass her, but this time she grabbed him, and they struggled briefly. When he pushed her to the ground, she rolled him over so that she was on top. When he tried to knee her in the stomach, she pulled him up, grabbing his wrists and slamming into the hundred year old stone fence around the park. She was faster than she looked, too.

“You can’t,” she moved to stand in front of the sidewalk that lead to the station entrance.

“You smell like a ghoul,” Haise stood and brushed a few leaves off his white uniform. His eyes narrowed at the accusation. He was well aware what ghouls smelled like, but there was something a little off about her scent. It reminded him of Amon.

“You have a good nose.” She pointed only to her eye patch where some of the flowers had now been smashed.

Sasaki realized now that he’d have to get past her in order to get to Hide, and she wasn’t normal. Like him, she wasn’t normal, “You’re a-“

“Half-ghoul. Yes. Like you. Well, sort of. Anyway, you can’t see him,” and her words were non-negotiable, which did more than anger Kaneki. She’d only gotten away with what she had so far, because he hadn’t been taking her seriously. He’d thought she was human until now, but knowing that they were on level playing field meant he could most certainly get past her.

“Get out of my way,” he growled, cracking an index finger on one hand and then on the other.

She actually chuckled in response, “What the hell? I thought you were supposed to be sweet?”

“You’re going to stop me?” He couldn't tell whether her Japanese was flawed or she just said strange things; she seemed to understand everything he said, and she responded quickly.

“Yes,” and the way she smiled told him that she believed she could.

His kakugan cracked into view all at once, “Are you challenging me to a fight?” he’d give her one more chance to back out.

“I mean, this really wouldn’t be the best time or place for that, especially because where we’re currently standing now, and, well, you’d lose, but if with your challenge you’re actually telling me you’re M, then that’s fine.”

 _M?_ Kaneki didn’t understand.

And he watched her cross her arms, her next words being in English, “I don’t know how to say ‘masochist’. Doesn’t ‘M’ work?” And she began using Japanese again, “Look, my Japanese is not the best. The point is, I can kick your ass.”

Kaneki just blinked. For a foreigner to speak Japanese at all was impressive to Kaneki. Why would they even learn? English was the most widely spoken language in the world. If he could get her into the park, then it would work. There shouldn’t be too many people there today. It was a park mostly for the infinite amount of people working in the skyscrapers around it, and most were off today- every second debating it meant another second Hide was increasing their distance. If he beat her, maybe he could even get her to tell him where Hide was going.

“Well, what are you waiting for, Anemone? I thought you were going to fight me?” He didn’t see her kagune. She was expecting him to strike frist?

He’d throw her over the fence and then-

Kaneki felt something feather light crawling up his neck in a liquid thread sliding quickly into his ears, gathering there in a coil and-

“Ahhhhhhhhh!!” and he fell to his knees, pulling at the living string that had somehow found its way onto his person and into his ears without him even noticing.

Little legs. Little bug. Making a nest in his ear drums. Can’t think. Just scream. Little legs inside his brain.

**_Remember this, Kaneki-kun?_ **

Anna withdrew her kagune immediately, “What the hell, Anemone?” and it quickly dissipated. Her eye was wide as she stared at the white haired man that had since begun scraping at his ears, rendering them bloody as his fingernails gathered skin beneath them. He was _clawing_ at his ears and down his neck and- she froze. She’d _broken_ him. Hide would be angry if he found out. It’s not like she knew that her actions would have caused this reaction. She’d done it as a joke. She’d done it to Hide before, even, last Halloween. What the hell was wrong with this guy? She took a step back. Hide didn’t have to know.

Someone was coming.

“Haise.”

“Arima?” he blanched, his eyes wide with fear when the death god’s face came into his field of vision, the light sprinkling in through the leaves of the tree making it difficult to make out the expression the reaper was currently wearing.

_He’s going to kill me. He’s going to kill me. I’m going to die. I-_

The Special Class investigator knelt down beside him and put his hands over his to keep them from moving any further.

Sasaki stopped scratching and instead covered his ears and held his hands flat as he tried to hide his self-abuse. His eyes shut tightly.

_Did he see? Did he hear me? Did he see how crazy I am? Did he see how I couldn’t-I couldn’t-I can still do this-I promise. I can still work. I can._

“Haise. Stop.”

Haise didn’t move. Arima didn’t pull his hands away, either.

Anna watched the whole thing and attempted to distance herself from the emotional outpour of the situation, “Damn. Not exactly sane, huh?”

“Haise?” Arima’s tone was gentler now and he removed his hands from the half-ghoul’s ears.

It was enough to tell Kaneki that it wasn’t his time to die- not yet. “I’m okay, Arima-san,” and he met the other’s eyes as he removed his hands slowly. The cuts were gone completely. The rate at which he’d healed was monstrous. The blood remained, however, as did the skin beneath his fingernails.

Anna, still attempting to absolve herself from all guilt, suddenly grew excited, “Arima? CCG’s god of death? You are famous in America, too, y’know? World-wide, actually. The half-ghoul is your pet? I mean, I figured you-”

Kishou stood and faced her directly, and the look in his eyes brought her words to a stop. He knew of her, but they had never actually met, “You’re protecting Hideyoshi?” He was in no mood to deal with someone like this, and his tone reflected that.

She mirrored his tone, and her face went blank as quickly as flipping a switch, “Yes.”

“Tell Hideyoshi he must take responsibility should this get out of hand,” Arima’s expression was blank, but his words were careful. The threat was subtle, but it was there.

Having been threatened all her life in one way or another, as most ghouls were, she sensed the threat in his words and responded in kind, “Take care of your pet, death god, and things will be fine.”

Kaneki cracked every finger on his right hand somehow in unison and stood suddenly, kakugan out again, “You-“

“Haise!”

“Yes, sir,” and he retreated inside himself immediately, his eye returning to that same cloudy gray.

“We’re leaving. This is over,” and to prove his words true, he turned back towards the crosswalk, grabbing Haise’s wrist and physically pulling him away from the conflict.

The Special Class investigator was pulling Haise back across the crosswalk, the signal to walk lighting just as his foot hit the pavement of the street when the woman with the flowered eyepatch called out to them, “It was nice meeting you!”

The words were mocking Haise in his mind and the anger that sprung from them caused a flash of courage to erupt inside him. He pulled his arm free from his mentor, “Why did you get involved? She-”

Arima immediately grabbed his arm again, bruising it in the process, “You tried to meddle in something I told you that you _can’t_ meddle in.”

“It’s Hide!” Haise pulled away again when they reached the other side of the street, and Arima let him. He knew that he didn’t understand.

“And?” Arima’s eyes flicked only once to the other side of the street. The other half-ghoul was gone.

“He’s my best friend!” Haise knew he shouldn’t be acting like this- like a child-, but he couldn’t help himself. He’d been so _close_. It had all happened too quickly. Nearly three years and Hide had escaped him in three minutes. He’d been too weak.

“It is not your business,” Arima insisted. Normally, he knew better than to argue with others, but Haise was different. Arima knew he, himself, had become different. He wasn’t always confident anymore when handling Haise. He . . . cared that Haise was doing the right thing and that Haise knew what the right thing was. He always had, but now he was feeling more desperate, and now, with Haise’s memories back, it was proving to be much more difficult. It made everything more complicated for Arima, but, somehow, a part of him enjoyed this.

“When you have best friends, everything is their business! That’s what best friends do-they-“

And Kaneki froze. He turned away from Arima as the emotions built up over that time he’d spent _betraying_ their friendship returned. The memories felt so fresh.

Those same poisonous thoughts returned.

_The only way to protect Hide is to keep him out of this._

_He’ll only be safe if I live my life separate from his._

_I can’t involve him; he’ll only get hurt._

_I can’t let him be killed._

_I can’t walk with Hide._

_I can’t live my life with Hide in it._

_I can’t tell him; he’ll think I’m a monster._

_I can’t tell Hide._

_I can’t tell Hide._

_I can’t tell Hide._

Kaneki was crying and Arima, already concerned about gaining attention simply due to the fact that Sasaki’s ears were still bloody, pulled him close to his chest to hide his face.

_I’m not the same._

_Hide won’t accept me._

_Hide will think I’m a monster._

_Hide will fear me, because of what I’ve become._

_Hide will hate me, because of all of the things that I’ve done._

_Hide won’t accept me, so I can’t go back._

_I can’t go back._

_I can’t go back._

_I can’t go back._

“It’s not an option, Haise,” Arima finally spoke while Sasaki continued to cry.

“But-”

Was he objecting to his own thoughts or to Arima’s words?

“Haise,” Arima didn’t know what the right thing to say was again. He wanted to know. He wanted to know what the right words were. Haise was suffering, and he couldn’t _do_ anything.

_“I already knew, man.”_

_“Let’s go home.”_

“ . . . Haise?”

“W-What is it?” Haise didn’t look up.

“You just-you’re shaking,” Arima attempted to be gentle.

_Hide trusted me._

_He trusted me all that time, and I betrayed that trust._

“I-I deserve this.”

“What?”

“The way he’s acting now,” Sasaki stepped away and attempted to lock his emotions away again. He understood now. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped away at the blood and the tears. His tone held a finality that told Arima he didn’t want to talk about it any longer, “I deserve this.”

There was a long silence between them as they walked back to headquarters together. Kaneki followed Arima wherever he was going, and minutes later they were in the parking garage heading towards Arima’s car. Usually their silence was comfortable, but not this time.

Arima had just appeared like that out of nowhere. He’d shown up in front of the Tokyo Metropolitan building on a Sunday. It wasn’t coincidence. Maybe he’d been at the CCG working with Ui on the Owl case? Maybe not. Maybe Koori had told him that Kaneki was here? Maybe not. Maybe he was following him by tracking his anklet? Maybe not. Maybe he was losing Arima’s trust? Maybe not.

What would have happened if he hadn’t been there to stop him?

_Hide . . . you would never punish me like this. You’re not like that. You’re not._

**_So sure, Kaneki-kun? All it is is betrayal met with betrayal, right? You think he’d really just forget that you abandoned him?_ **

_He wouldn’t do that! He’s not like that! He must have a reason he’s acting this way._

Rize’s laughter echoed in the back of his mind.

When they were in the car, Arima finally spoke again, “I don’t think you deserve this, Haise, but . . . what we are dealt in life has nothing to do with what we do or don’t deserve.” He hoped those were the _right_ words.

Haise conceded, “You’re right.” Arima was trying to understand, and it was in words like those that Haise could recognize that. In the past, everything Arima did had appeared flawless. Ever since that night before the Samurai mission Arima seemed somehow less . . . perfect. “I’m sorry.” He shouldn’t have thought negatively about him; it was clear that he was trying his best.

Arima started the car, not understanding why Haise was apologizing.

“ . . . What he’s doing now is wrong,” Haise went on. After a beat Arima understood that the First Class investigator was talking about his friend. He didn’t understand the situation, and he was well aware of that, so he’d just . . . listen.

“I think he’s trying to protect me somehow, but I don’t know what from,” Kaneki had never told anyone what he was about to tell Arima, but he didn’t feel nervous about sharing it, “I did the same thing.  I thought by abandoning him I could protect him. It was stupid. I know that now. He’s smarter than that- than me. Why is he doing this now?”

“Will you respect his decision?” the death god was expecting the truth.

“No,” and so Haise gave it to him.

When Arima said nothing in return, Haise added, “but I don’t want to cause him trouble, either.”

It had been clear to Arima how Hideyoshi felt about Haise, and it had been clear that Haise cared deeply for his childhood friend as well, but- he wondered absently if Haise needed this kind of stress right now. He still believed it was best if he’d just let the whole thing go, but that clearly wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

 “Actually, can you take me to Cochlea?”

“Of course,” and Arima turned on his blinker to head in that direction, “To see Amon Koutarou?”

“Yeah,” Kaneki scratched at his wrist.

Arima noticed but he said nothing about it. “An investigation is being opened for Owl.” Every time he saw Haise scratch his wrist like that, he felt guilt; he’d never be able to _fix_ that no matter how many things he said or did right.

“Who’s it assigned to?” Kaneki was expecting Arima to know even if Ui didn’t.

“I’m not certain.” But Arima didn’t know, either. He went on, “There will be a meeting concerning that Tuesday. In the meantime . . .”

“You want me to ask Amon if he knows anything about Takizawa?” Kaneki knew where this was going.

“Yes,” Arima affirmed.

“I’ll do it.”

The rest of the car ride was in silence, but their trust had been repaired for the time being, and this time, the silence was comfortable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Err, I know Hide literally ran away; this looks so immature. /wibble  
> I know it seems like this story is nothing but hidekane drama right now, but I promise you it's not (to your relief or displeasure). Thank you for sticking with me so long!


	17. Happy Birthday- Dec 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, so, if anyone is confused about Hide or Anna, [please know there is a side-story that might help you.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4222875) ~~Sorry for the trouble. I had a position that needed to be filled in the story, and I couldn’t think of who could do it in canon. OTL~~
> 
> This might be a kinda weird chapter. I wrote most of this chapter nearly two months ago after watching [amazarashi’s Seasons Die One After Another MV ](https://youtu.be/wtJcLWeY114)on repeat. I was rather inspired. When the girl ~~(who definitely doesn’t represent Rize)~~ opens her mouth, the kanji on her tongue is “life”. To eat is to live! The same kanji is in her palm. I really adore this song and MV. If you haven’t seen it, please watch it all the way through . . . unless you’re a squeamish person. It’s bloody.
> 
> The dream sequence in this chapter, however, is influenced by [Radwimp’s Order Made](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0i9NHYp2h3s). In the time between writing this and now, the video with the English subtitles has been removed, but [please read the lyrics when you get a chance](http://buriitanii.deviantart.com/art/Order-Made-Made-to-Order-RADWIMPS-translyrics-333209767). I cried the first time I saw I saw the MV while reading the lyrics simultaneously. T-T
> 
> Thank you all so much for your support.

It was already 8:00 at night, so when Arima showed up in casual clothing at the chateau unannounced with a package, Kaneki felt very confused. He was in his pajamas already. Had he forgotten something?

“Happy birthday.”

Oh. Right. He'd done his best to forget all about his birthday after the _gift_ he’d received from Anna that morning. December 20th. Of course. That was his _real_ birthday. He opened the door all the way for Arima to come in. He didn’t really like surprises, and he was sure his mentor knew that. He was just glad he was wearing his winter pajamas; his scars were covered.

“May I use your kitchen?” the Special Class investigator removed his shoes and began heading in that direction with the package.

“Yeah . . .” Kaneki cracked a finger and then made his hand into a fist, his fingernails digging into his palm. He needed to break this habit of popping the bones in his hands. He was _trying_.

“Wait at the table?”

It was a request from Arima, so Haise closed the front door and obeyed immediately. “Sure,” and Sasaki felt a chill go up his back. What was going on? He was facing the living room when he sat down, so the kitchen was at his back. He could hear Arima getting plates, silverware hitting each other, the sound of butcher paper. Was he actually doing what he thought he was doing?

Minutes later, two plain white plates covered in well placed raw meat were set in front of Haise.

“Th-thank you,” Haise was blushing to his ears. Was this really happening?

“Is it strange?” the god of death sat on the other side of the dining room table with a glass of water.

The meat was laid out on two rectangular plates, cut into hiragana that spelled “Happy Birthday”. There was no blood anywhere, but from the texture and the scent, it was quite fresh. Haise felt himself salivate just from the sight and scent alone.

“I’m a little embarrassed.” Haise admitted, unable to cool the warmth in his face, and he wasn’t sure if it was for himself or Arima. This was . . . well, he never expected something like this.

“Don’t be,” and Kishou appeared entirely unaffected by the whole thing.

Haise noticed the fork that Arima had placed beside the second plate. “Where does it come from?” Kaneki stared, still too shocked to actually begin eating. He’d eaten in front of Arima before when he was living with him, but it had only been maybe twice, and the circumstances had been . . . less than favorable. This was . . . incredibly different.

“They’re leftovers from organ donors before they’re cremated. It’s where most of it comes from.” The prisoners in Cochlea had to be fed, too.

“I see. . . . It doesn’t make you sick?” Haise was staring at the perfectly cut hiragana. The food was carved so beautifully that he wondered how he’d done it. He felt drool falling from the corners of his lips and he wiped away at it immediately.

“No.”

Kaneki’s embarrassment wasn’t going away. Maybe that had been a stupid question due to all that Arima Kishou had seen and done, but still. Kaneki picked up the fork and poked at the first two strokes of ‘TA’ only to watch blood appear beneath it, “I almost don’t want to eat it. ‘O’ looks pretty.”

“Really?” and Arima raised an eyebrow as though he were genuinely confused by the notion.

Maybe his mentor had been expecting him to wolf it down with his hands like he had when- “I mean, I will.” Sasaki slid his fork under the human tissue that had been cut into the hiragana ‘O’, and, once the raw meat was in his mouth, he closed his eyes and relished in the flavor. It was delicious. The texture was perfect. The temperature was excellent. He hadn’t eaten this well in so long. It was- it was someone’s brother or sister or mother or father or friend. He opened his eyes and saw Rize sitting beside Arima at the table.

She mouthed to him, _‘To eat is to live, Kaneki-kun.’_

Kaneki licked his lips to be sure that they were free from blood. “ It’s . . . .” Eating food as a ghoul was nothing like eating food as a human. As a human, you couldn’t feel your body digest and absorb the essence of the food. You couldn’t feel the blood rush inside you and devour it hungrily, making it a part of you. He was certain nothing he’d eaten as a human made him feel so physically elated as when he’d eaten warm flesh as a ghoul.

The feelings humans got from food were all emotional- based on memories and experiences.

The feelings ghouls got from food were rooted deeper in something physical and carnal, desperate, and tangible.

Haise seemed to enjoy it, and that brought relief to the death god. Arima thought he read Haise’s expression correctly, so he attempted to relax him. “It’s okay. I like mackerel. I always order it- usually more than one piece.”

Rize burst out laughing and Kaneki looked down at his food.

What? There was a lot left out of that conversation. Wait. Was he comparing it to Kaneki? Was he saying that because he enjoyed the least popular sushi he somehow was able to understand Kaneki who partook in eating the least popular menu item in general? Wait? What?!

Haise smiled and did his best not to acknowledge Rize. It had been years since he’d seen her outside of his own mind. “Aji or Saba?”

“Well, Aji,” Kishou admitted.

“Not even saba? You could never aji-stand my feelings,” Haise smiled.

Rize laughed more. This hadn’t happened in so long. If he ignored her, would she go away? During his time as Haise he hadn’t even seen her once. That made sense, because he couldn’t remember her, but then- he’d never hallucinated images of his past self, either.

“Three . . . out of ten,” Arima offered.

“Sabady tease you for your poor choice in sushi?” Haise raised an eyebrow and took another bite.

“You should quit while you’re ahead.” Arima teased back, expression unchanging.

“You’re gonna mack-a-roll my eyes.”

Rize was now laughing so much that she was leaning over the table and, with her right arm extended, she hit the table with a fist as her laughter continued.

“That . . . made no sense,” Arima didn’t approve.

“I tried,” Kaneki shrugged and went back to eating. It took every amount of self-control he had to keep from looking at Rize.

Arima only smiled beneath his glasses in response to his words.

“You knew this was my original birthday.” Kaneki closed his eyes with the next bite, and when he opened them, Rize was gone. He’d hallucinated Rize. What was wrong with him?

“Did I offend you? I thought we could celebrate both.”

Arima hadn’t seemed to pick up on what Haise had seen. Good. “No, but-we share the same birthday.” It was a really strange coincidence, but it wasn’t impossible.

“We do,” he confirmed the obvious. He didn’t appear to think anything of it.

“So, what did you do for your birthday?” After what had happened that morning and what had happened the day before, Kaneki had been focused only on himself. He’d been consumed with thoughts of Hide and Anna and what he could _do_. He felt guilty now. He’d completely forgotten that it was Arima’s birthday.

“I’m doing it right now,” the death god gave an automatic response.

Sasaki blushed at how honest the answer was, but it did nothing for his guilt. In fact, it just made it worse, “May I . . . bake you a cake?” As soon as he’d stopped blushing over his embarrassment over his food, he was blushing again at his embarrassment over his guilt. He wondered absently if Arima was secretly enjoying toying with him like this.

Arima couldn’t help but form his lips into a smile once more, “You may if you like.” He wondered why Sasaki was still kind to him even after everything that had happened between them. He appreciated it. He’d probably shown Haise as many vulnerabilities as he had Taishi- possibly more.

Sasaki continued eating, “It’s late. Did you drive?” He calmed down as much as he could. He had to accept this situation as normal. It was like when they lived together, but Arima was sitting with Haise as he ate dinner, not the other way around.

Usually Kishou did drive, but he hadn’t been in a hurry today, “I didn’t. No.”

“Stay the night?” Kaneki offered. It really didn’t matter where Arima slept. He’d known him long enough to know that the Special Class investigator could pretty much fall asleep anywhere.

“That’s fine.”

“You hate eating late, though,” Haise remembered.

“I don’t mind it,” Arima reassured him. If it was a cake that Haise had baked him then . . .

There was a beat before Haise ventured onto a new topic, “So, had you met Anna? I mean, aside from yesterday . . . ?”

“No. Have you been in contact with her?” Kishou hadn’t expected her to come up.

“I met her this morning.” Haise tried not to think about what he’d felt- bugs crawling through his veins.

“Why?” a blank expression settled on Arima’s face. He didn’t like where this was going.

“Well, it was at headquarters. At the training facility,” Haise could do this; there were some things she’d said that he wanted to talk about but- little bugs- long little bugs that travel through his arteries.

Arima frowned. What part of _‘can’t’_ did Haise not understand?

“We only talked,” he lied, his hand going up to his chin as he wiped blood that wasn’t there with a napkin, “but it was hard to understand everything she said. Maybe it was the language barrier.” No, he couldn’t tell him what she’d done. Still-“Anyway, she’s a foreigner. How was she able to come here to work for the CCG?”

“The Chairman decided it.”

“I don’t understand.” Why would the Chairman want a half-ghoul?

“You’re actually trying to ask about Hideyoshi?”

“ . . . Yes,” and he took the bait immediately.

“It was Hideyoshi that brought her here. She was going to be executed in America,” Arima tried to keep his language sparse. He could share what he knew about Anna; there wasn’t anything special about her and she had no connection to Hide beyond being a bodyguard. He just hoped she knew when to keep her mouth shut which didn’t exactly seem the case so far. Still, she’d been loyal to Hideyoshi all this time, so the death god wasn’t sure what to make her.

“But if she was going to be executed, that means she committed a crime, right? She’s dangerous, so how did she end up here?” With Hide. Why was she with Hide? If she was so dangerous, didn’t that mean that Hide was in danger? And if she was a dangerous ghoul but was now employed with the CCG with the Chairman’s consent, then couldn’t Amon be forgiven, too? Couldn’t Amon rejoin the CCG if she could?

“I won’t pretend to know any personal motivations, but, to put it simply, she belongs to the CCG,” and Arima instantly realized the implications of his words.

“The same as me,” that confirmed it. She’d had the anklet, too, anyway. He’d seen it on her that morning.

When the death god didn’t say anything in response, Sasaki insisted, “The same as me.”

“The same,” and this time it had been harder to say. He’d told Haise that he belonged to him not two weeks ago. Why was that idea somehow harder to accept now? What has happening to him? Was he stronger because of it or weaker?

“Why does he trust her?” Sasaki was more direct this time.

Arima noticed that Haise hadn’t clarified who ‘he’ was, but after a beat, he realized he didn’t need to, “Haise, I think you of all people know the answer to that.”

Despite the fact that his body was in some kind of state of euphoria as he continued eating, Kaneki became visibly agitated, “ . . . Do you think that co-existence is possible?”

Arima hadn’t expected that question. He hadn’t expected to hear anything like that, at least, not for some time- maybe later, when the Quinx were facing real danger or-

Kaneki interrupted his thoughts to put words in his mouth, “Of course you don’t. You’ve been killing ghouls since-“

Arima’s eyes narrowed, and Sasaki went silent, “I wouldn’t be anywhere else right now if I didn’t.” He wondered where all of this was coming from. What had that woman told him?

“What?  . . . Watching me eat raw human muscle that has been cut into hiragana to spell ‘Happy Birthday’ is where you want to be?” and he laughed. As he did, he wondered who was laughing, because he couldn’t place why it was funny.

Arima smiled again; he didn’t understand Sasaki’s actions, so he assumed that he’d only made a joke.

When his laughter died down, Kaneki spoke softly, “I think it’s just a dream,” he swallowed ‘TO’.

“A dream or not. I think what matters is who that dream belongs to.”

It was his own dream. It was Arima’s. It was Touka’s. It was Yoshimura’s. It was Yomo’s. It was Uta’s. It was Nishio’s. It was Kimi’s. It was Hinami’s. It was Tsukiyama’s and Chie’s. It was Hide’s. It was Hide’s. It was Hide’s.

“’Me’ is the prettiest, I think.” He didn’t want to think about it anymore. His list had mostly consisted of ghouls. The people he surrounded himself with now- did any of them really care about ghouls? If coexistence were possible, what would they say? How would they react? Yomo and Uta never discriminated between those that came to them for help. Hinami clearly had an understanding heart in the same gentle vein of her parents. Even Tsukiyama, who had so often treated humans like his own personal cattle, had a friend in Chie and they’d maintained that relationship all this time.

“I can try kanji next time.”

Haise laughed again, and as Arima smiled softly, silently indulging in the fact that he’d made the other forget his worries if even for just a moment, Haise realized that maybe it wasn’t the amount of humans that shared that dream; it was the quality.

When Haise finished his meal, he quickly cleaned the dishes. In the mean time, Arima began gathering the ingredients for the cake. They enjoyed the silence. It was something they were used to, and it was something they were comfortable with. If Kaneki closed his eyes, for a brief moment, he could imagine that it was two years ago. He was in Arima’s apartment. He was washing the dishes left over from dinner. Arima was putting them away. They worked together like clockwork, one picking up where the other left off.

<><><><><><><><><> 

They were sitting at a table inside of a small kitchen. _He_ knew it as _his_ home, but it looked nothing like the chateau. _He_ was standing at the blue tiled counter top that was strewn with ingredients. _His_ purpose was to make sure they were eating properly.

They were sitting at the small square table in the middle of the kitchen. It was Haise. It was Kaneki. It was a tiny Ken. And it was Centipede, his kakuja obstructing the view of his face.

“What would you like to eat?”                  

Ken smiled and said hamburger steak.

Kaneki, wearing a white medical eyepatch, smiled and said coffee.

Centipede shrugged and said he enjoyed calf muscles best if it was an option.

Haise smiled and said he didn’t mind, as long as he was able to share a meal with everyone.

 _He_ got to work, fulfilling their orders. Moving with purpose as _he_ handled the ingredients with care. _He_ washed _his_ hands. Don’t mix hamburger with human. Wash your hands. Coffee with brown sugar cubes. Wash your hands. Humans or ghouls. Wash your hands. Some time later, they were all at the table with their specified dishes, ready to eat.

Haise turned to _him_ and asked, “Aren’t you going to eat?”

 “I don’t eat,” _he_ replied.

There wasn’t a place for _him_ at the table, anyway.

“Of course you do; everyone eats!” little Ken was very enthusiastic and insistent in the way a child feels confident of their rather limited and simple knowledge. Ken appeared particularly satisfied with his meal, but he kept moving the vegetables out of the sauce and not eating them. No one stopped him. He knew no one was looking.

“Are you feeling sick?” Haise asked, clearly attentive towards the people around him.

“If you’re not hungry, I’m sure coffee will warm you up at least,” Kaneki offered, a kind expression on his face as he added the brown sugar cubes.

“It’s better to eat now than to wonder when your next meal is coming,” Centipede reasoned. His mask was gone and there was blood on his lips.

“I don’t eat,” _he_ replied.

“Are you not human?” Ken asked quietly, shifting in his chair.

“You’re certainly not a ghoul,” Centipede rationalized, expression blank.

“You must be a ghost,” Haise whispered more to himself than anyone else.

“What are you?” Kaneki asked softly, his single eye looking up from the rim of his Anteiku mug.

“When they say that God is all-knowing, does that mean he knows even . . . himself?” _he_ asked as _he_ leaned against the blue tiled counter top behind _him_.

They were all watching _him_.

“I think so!” Ken piped in, glad that _he_ didn’t seem sad about the fact that _he_ couldn’t eat.

“Which god are you referring to? There’s quite a few, you see-“ Kaneki was ready to list and detail each of them because he’d read plenty of books on such things and-oh, some of his favorite authors referenced Hinduism and others Christianity and-

“God doesn’t exist.” Centipede had no patience for the topic. What happened in your life was determined by how strong or how weak of a person you were.

“I think that He does.” Haise answered honestly. He appeared to be the most invested in the conversation.

“Why do you say that?” _he_ looked at Haise, confused.

“God is only God because He has mastered the art of being completely self-aware but spending all of His prayers on others. I think there’s a being that exits like that.”

Ken didn’t seem to understand what Haise was saying, but he tried. He turned to _him_ and asked, “Are you God? Is that why you don’t eat?”

 _He_ answered quickly, because, even coming from a child, the question was simply absurd, “I’m not! I could never spend all of my time praying for others; I’m too selfish.”

“You could just be very sick. Have you been eating the right foods?” Ken’s mother did her best to teach him what the _right_ foods were; she was just never there to make sure he was.

 _He_ looked down at the dishes that sat in front of each of them and contemplated the question.

They were all watching _him_.

_“I don’t know anymore.”_

_< ><><><><><><><><><><> _

“Haise?”

Kaneki sat up suddenly causing the book on his stomach to fall to the floor. With his back to Arima, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He’d fallen asleep on the couch beside Arima and it brought a wave of nostalgia over him. When Haise had lived with Arima, it wasn’t uncommon for them to fall asleep reading in the living room. “Hm?” Kaneki turned back to his mentor.

Arima had not fallen asleep, however, and with the erratic way in which Haise’s eyes had been moving in his sleep, it had been clear that he’d been dreaming, “A nightmare?”

Kaneki blushed and to hide it, he put his hands on his cheeks and slapped them lightly as if trying to wake himself up. “Kind of.” Hinami used to do that when he fell asleep on the couch in the apartment they’d shared a lifetime ago. He missed her laughter. He wondered if it sounded the same now as it did then.

“ . . . Do you still get them?” Arima ventured into dangerous territory. When Haise had lived with him during his recovery, Haise would wake up screaming or crying from nightmares he could never remember. He’d only describe them as _painful_. This one didn’t appear to be anywhere near the same, but Arima was attempting to open the conversation. He was always thinking of Taishi’s advice.

“Sometimes, yeah, but it’s not always bad- not like they used to be,” Kaneki admitted, smiling a little mostly for Arima’s sake, because he appeared concerned, and smiling was an automatic reaction for Kaneki when people appeared to be _concerned_ about him.

The elder of the two waited patiently anyway.

“This one was  . . . different.” In fact, he’d never had one like this. It wasn’t scary, but it wasn’t a nice dream, either. It had been too vivid, however, and the quality in which it had been experienced was different from his nightmares. His nightmares always involved Yamori or Rize, and now, Doumeki. His nightmares involved death, torture, and somatoparaphrenia. He could remember one where Yamori had cut off his fingers and Doumeki had fed him Rize’s. When the fingers had grown back, they were woman’s fingers, fingernails painted the same peach pink he’d seen on Rize’s fingernails once at Anteiku.

“Let it go,” and the voice was firm enough to pull Kaneki from his thoughts, but not before gray eyes shot down to inspect this fingers briefly.

Kaneki felt tired despite just having a nap, “I don’t-I’ll never be okay,” and the words had left him before he could consider their implications. He wished he could grab them out of the air, stuff them back inside his mouth, and swallow them, but it was too late, Arima had heard his cry for help.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.” Sasaki was constantly surprising Arima with how strong he was mentally, at least, from his perspective.

Sasaki, wanting the conversation to be over before it’d even begun, immediately put up his defenses, “You are too easy on me. You should keep your dog on a tighter leash.”

Arima didn’t appreciate the comment or the very clear dismissive behavior. Instead, he insisted in a firm tone once he had caught Sasaki’s eyes, “You’re different, Haise. Don’t ever refer to yourself as anything less than you are.”

Haise chuckled and stretched, unable to look at Arima any longer, “And what am I?”

“You know the answer to that,” Arima’s response was quick. Part of him didn’t have the strength to say it out loud. Part of him was still trying to believe it and accept it himself, because it was something so new to him.

It was selfish, but Sasaki pressed, “I don’t.”

“ _The only family I have._ ”

Kaneki turned and looked at Arima, speechless.

Arima looked blankly back at him hoping the glare on his glasses was hiding how vulnerable saying those words had made him.

Kaneki didn’t want to believe it. “One can’t help but feel sorry for a mutt,” and he repeated the words Matsuri had used.

“ _Haise._ ”

And the half-ghoul stared. Arima’s normally rigid features appeared soft and fragile. His eyes, half lidded, were glassy and tender. And his lips were parted slightly in uncertainty like he was on the cusp of saying something he knew the meaning of but didn’t understand the language for.

“You really mean it.” Kaneki looked away. This man had been fighting for how long? This man had killed how many ghouls? This man had experienced how much? Yes, here he was, showing just how human he was in response to something Haise had said. Arima was immune to seemingly everything except-

Haise stared. He never thought that Arima could be hurt. He’d always thought of him as a beautiful immoveable force, though lately not as much. Arima could stab him through his eyes and skull, kill him, and recreate him. Arima had the power to destroy him. Arima had the power to protect him.

Haise had the power to break his heart.

“I shouldn’t have.” He was the only one who held this power. “I’m sorry.”

The pain in the death god’s eyes all but dissipated, “Is it strange?” He didn’t say _it_ out loud. Maybe Taishi would say it for him later, because at this moment, what he knew to be true was something increasingly difficult to face.

“No,” Haise said quickly, averting his eyes again from what he saw inside Arima’s, “-but I- I can’t really accept,” he admitted. It was too kind. He imagined what it would have been like to have Arima in his life since he was a child- even married to his mother. Would he have let that happen to her? He couldn’t be sure. He was certain, though, that Arima would have taught him to be stronger- stronger as a child and stronger growing up. Haise, the person he’d become with his prior life wiped away, -he’d been happier. Kaneki had to admit that that was largely due to Arima . . . Akira, too.

“I see,” Arima adjusted his glasses and his expression was blank again. He didn’t expect anything. This was a desire that had been born in him years ago but only recognized less than two weeks ago. He’d never expect anything.

There was a heavy silence between them before Arima broke it, “I-“ _I want to help._ He was an adult. He was how old now, and yet there were still things in this world that he was only now finding that he feared?

“It’s okay. You don’t have to say it. I understand. I . . . I completely understand.” And Haise did in a way. He’d do anything for the Qs. He loved them- all of them. He was only here now because of them. He only had some amount of direction in his life now because of them. They needed him, and he felt-

“Thank you, Arima. I’ll try . . . to depend on you more often.”

It told Arima that Haise did understand, and he felt his lips spread into something of a smile. He felt lucky, and feeling _lucky_ never happened in his life. It was the right way to describe his current feelings, though, right? It was something beyond gratitude. He didn’t feel deserving of it.

_Blessed._

That was more appropriate.

Haise was a _blessing_ \- perhaps the only blessing that had ever been bestowed upon him.

“The cake should be cool by now.”

“Right!” Sasaki smiled genuinely and made his way to the kitchen, grateful that Arima seemed to be happy. It was a two layer round cake. He’d already made the frosting. He’d just need to cut it and frost it before it was ready.

Kishou stood and followed but stopped at the counter between the living room and the kitchen, seating himself on one of the bar stools, “I’m surprised you had strawberry extract.”

“Well, Saiko asked me for Strawberry cupcakes one day,” Sasaki used a large knife to cut the cake smooth and flat.

“You spoil them.”

“Not as much as I used to,” Haise admitted as if that meant that his behavior in the past was acceptable because he’d improved. “Saiko-chan is really taking her job seriously now.”

“I’ve heard,” the Special Class investigator wondered if Haise realized her reasoning behind it.

“I’m really proud of her. All of them, really,” and Haise’s smile filled Arima with relief.

Arima watched as Haise dumped the excess cake into the trash and began frosting one round piece before placing the other on top. Arima could smell strawberries from where he was sitting. Haise didn’t even make a face.

Arima felt proud, too.

“Do you think Hide is like me? Like Anna?” _Like the Quinx, too?_

“What do you mean?” Arima realized that Sasaki wasn’t done talking, but he was okay with that. He’d be here; he’d always be here, even if it was only to listen.

“He’s a prisoner, too. Isn’t he?” Haise’s eyes were on the cake he was frosting, and his tone had remained light.

“You can’t save someone who doesn’t wish to be saved.”

“Then why are we going after Takizawa?” he smoothed the sides so that the pink frosting was flawless.

“He’s a criminal.”

“He’s also a victim,” Haise reasoned.

Arima had an idea where this was coming from. He’d asked Haise to investigate the matter himself, anyway, “You’re still the only one visiting Amon?”

“Yes,” and finally his tone dropped. Sasaki would keep visiting Amon, but he wished others would, too.

Arima had effectively changed the subject, “I’m sure he appreciates it.”

“I want to convince him to come and work for the CCG again,” and Haise’s tone was serious as he filled a plastic piping bag with more pink frosting.

“He has that option?” the death god was skeptical, but he would listen to whatever Haise had to say.

“No, but, I figured you could make it happen,” Haise was currently adding roses along the bottom of the cake. It was a bit feminine, but it was pretty. Arima had taught him how to do it, anyway, so he was sure he wouldn’t mind.

Kishou bit his lip, “And when were you going to ask me about this?”

“As soon as he agreed,” Haise focused his attention on the cake.

“What makes you think I can give him this?”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.” Haise used Arima words against him. When silence followed, Haise went on, “The Chairman will agree to pretty much anything you request,” he insisted.

“That’s not true,” and he was firm, because it wasn’t. The Chairman would agree if there was a benefit to the CCG in some way, though.

“It is. I mean- you’ll try though, won’t you?”

“That’s not-”

“For Amon. Akira? How about for me?” Sasaki stood straight, the piping bag now empty, and he smiled in Arima’s direction.

The death god’s face was blank, seemingly unmoved by the notion, “You’re forgetting your place again. You can’t-”

Sasaki’s smile only grew, “No, I’m finding it. I’m not human, Arima-san, but I’m not a ghoul, either. Amon is the same. Takizawa, too.”

Arima couldn’t hide his surprise at Haise’s strength. He wondered often where it came from. How was he able to shoulder so much? He didn’t know what to say in response. He had come to only see Haise as one thing.

“I think I’m finally realizing what I want.” He brought the cake over to Arima by walking to his side of the counter and slid it in front of him, setting a fork beside it as if to infer that Arima had to eat the whole thing on his own.

“And what’s that?”

“It’s a secret.”

Hands were in Sasaki’s hair suddenly, ruffling the soft white strands until they were sticking out in every direction.

Genuine laughter emitted from Sasaki as he half-heartedly batted the hands away. When Arima turned to his cake, Haise said softly, “Thank you for being here. It’s lonely without them.”

“You have Urie here, right?” a fork nudged at the frosting and spun through one of the roses.

“He’s ever the social one.”

“You could be spending this time getting to know him better,” and the fork sunk through the icing and the two layers of cake.

“If he’d come out of his room to speak to me. . . .” Sasaki rolled his eyes as if he were dealing with a thirteen-year-old.

Kishou brought the fork to his mouth and the cake disappeared inside, “It’s good, Haise, thank you.”

“Happy birthd-“

A knock at the door.

Haise moved immediately to answer it, his pace a brisk walk. Who would be here at nearly one in the morning? When he opened the door, he saw no one there. He walked outside, barefooted, and could smell nothing but the same familiar night air. When he turned around, he noticed the box.

Arima appeared in the doorway after Haise had walked outside. He noticed the box immediately, “What is it?”

Haise walked over to the small cardboard box, and, throwing caution to the wind, picked it up and opened it. He hadn’t expected it, but he felt like he should have. “I-“

“Show me.”

Sasaki handed the black leather mask to Arima, and Arima held the mask in his hand thoughtfully deciding absently that it looked well made.

“It’s from my past,” Sasaki’s words had come out in a whisper and he wasn’t quite sure why.

“The people from your past are reaching out to you. What are you going to do?”

Their eyes met. Kaneki took the mask back and put it inside the box once more.

“The past belongs in the past.”

Arima couldn’t help but feel like what was happening was wrong, but it was Haise’s decision. He watched as he closed the box back up and headed for the kitchen to throw it away.

When he opened the cupboard where the wastebasket was kept, Arima inquired, “You’re throwing it away?”

“I don’t need it.” The item was in the box when he threw it away. There was no chance of it being damaged in the trash.


	18. Break the World- Dec 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone asked about the dream in the last chapter, [ so I have explained it here if you are curious to read about it](http://fineinthemorning.tumblr.com/post/125243351948/ah-do-you-think-you-can-explain-the-dinner-scene).  
> Please feel free to ask me anything here or on tumblr if you like, and if it doesn't spoil the story, I will be happy to answer and discuss with you!
> 
> This chapter takes place in the early morning before the last chapter. :D  
> Thank you all very much for your kindness and for always cheering me on. ~~I get so shy!~~

It was one in the morning. No one should have been at the training facility in the basement level of the CCG Headquarters. In fact, it shouldn’t have even been open. The hours posted read that it closed at 11pm. The CCG, like the Tokyo Metropolitan Police, recognized the needs of those riding trains home. However, the lights were on inside the underground facility and it lit the cavern like room in artificial white light.

There was a space outside the training room where people could relax, watch, or wait if there was some kind of class going on. Haise was there now, and he looked through the glass to see only one person inside the large high ceilinged windowless room. He recognized her immediately- not because he _knew_ her, but because she was the one who had been standing beside Hide. She was the one who was _allowed_ to stand beside him. She was also the person who had kept Hide from him. By standing beside Hide, she was standing in Sasaki’s way. Deciding not to approach her immediately, he simply watched her through the glass, contemplating her role in all of this.

He’d looked up the name she’d offered earlier that day in the database. There were more than a few matches, but none of the photos matched. It was like she didn’t exist at all.

The woman had walked over to one side of the room to lay down on the floor. While lying on her back, she stretched her arms up towards the ceiling, her long dark hair lying tied behind her head like a black snake. Sasaki watched curiously as white tendrils began to emerge from her palms and reach up towards the ceiling. First, there was one from each of her hands, then another from her wrists, and so on. The tendrils, like white silk strands reached up towards the ceiling, twining around one another so that the result was two thick white ropes. He’d never seen anything like it. It had to be her kagune, but how was she releasing it through her hands and arms and not through her back?

When she began signing, the whole scene took on a genuinely eerie quality. He couldn’t hear it clearly due to the size of the room and the glass that separated them, but he could hear it just well enough to know it was in English. By now the white rope had reached the ceiling, and when it did, it began to unwind and branch out across it in all directions like veins. The ceiling began pulsating with life. Sasaki could only stare. He’d not seen anything quite like it.

When he opened the door to the training facility, her singing abruptly stopped. The white kagune dissipated almost instantly into a red mist as she sat up, and a few of the white tendrils on her arms receded back inside her skin. Her one eye stared at him as he approached. She didn’t appear alarmed despite the fact that his current expression looked so much like the one she’d seen Arima Kishou wear several hours earlier.

“Anna, was it?” he cracked a finger.

She stood up and wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her sleeve, because the idea of him looking down at her was not one she was comfortable with when he was looking at her like _that_ , “. . . Yeah. You’re here rather late. No curfew?” She was nervous, so she attempted to act even more confident to hide it. Of course, as usual, it only made her sound like she was initiating a conflict.

“Late minds think alike,” and his expression softened into a smile as he stopped a couple meters from her.

The eyepatched half ghoul blinked. Now she was confused. A second prior, she was certain he would attempt to murder her, “Was that an attempt at a joke?”

And Sasaki shrugged, “I was born to pun,” and popped another bone in a finger.

“I don’t understand how you can say that with such a straight face,” she replied, entirely unsure of what to make of him. He wasn’t the least bit intimidating when he smiled. Hide had never mentioned his best friend having an inclination towards puns or even jokes for that matter, either.

His smile faded, but when he said nothing else and only scratched at his wrist as he watched her, Anna panicked a bit, “About what happened earlier today . . .”

He frowned. He had replayed the scene several times in his mind since then. No one knew what had happened between himself and Yamori but Rize, so it wasn’t as if this woman had done what she had to him to purposefully trigger the memories of his previous trauma. Still, her words alone had been enough to warrant his suspicion of her as well as his creeping hatred.  The way she’d spoken to Arima was entirely inappropriate; it was more than just reckless. And, at that time, she’d practically made a joke of his suffering. She was either incredibly cruel or incredibly stupid. Still, he was more interested in finding out her connection to Hide than anything else. He assumed that information wouldn’t come easily though, and he had to face the truth that depending on how she was connected to Hide, it might cause his best friend trouble if he fought with her. He’d hear her apology at the very least.

She fiddled with the black hair of her ponytail and looked at the mat on the training room floor, “I didn’t expect that. . . .” and after a moment, her single eye met his, “Sorry- I wanted to freak you out, but damn- well, not like that, you know?”

Instead of moving to hurt her which would show he hadn’t forgiven her or saying anything of the sort that he accepted her apology and therefore had, he simply asked, “How do you do that . . . with your hand?” Kaneki was staring, but he didn’t care. It appeared to be nothing short of magic, but since he’d become a ghoul, he was convinced nothing ever was. Anything was possible, and anything could happen at any moment. How you responded to the impossible is what determined whether you were strong or weak.

Anna rubbed at her white leather eyepatch and yawned. There were no flowers pinned to it at the moment and it wasn’t in the best condition as it was pierced daily with any number of pins. “You- well, it’s like- you ever meditated before?”

Haise shook his head.

She held out her hand, palm up, and a second later that same white thread emerged from the palm of her hand, “It’s like you uh- kind of . . . exist everywhere? Your maria- . . . shit- kagune is a part of you, right? -but well, it’s like reaching out in every direction with it. You don’t think of it as a kagune at all, actually. I’m not good at explaining it.” This was all just making her uncomfortable. She had the book, but she wasn’t ready to give it to him. That might have been the whole purpose in this, but there was no chance he was ready to take her seriously yet. He’d need to warm him up to its teachings. She added with a shrug, “Also, you have to eat pretty fucking well.” She closed her hand into a fist, opened it again to show the kagune had vanished. There was no sign that it had erupted from the skin of her palm at all, and Kaneki didn’t understand why.

Sasaki tried to wrap his head around her disjointed speech, “You’re saying _anyone_ can do this?” Kaneki believed it was real, but that it was possible for himself to perform such a task . . . let alone someone like Banjou or Tooru- that was hard to swallow. Didn’t something like this depend on the kakuhou?

She smiled, lips parting slightly. Such power had a way of seducing others. Kaneki didn’t seem to be any different in that regard, and she appreciated that, “Yes. Any ghoul, of course.” It made her job easier.

“Right . . . ,” He felt nervous suddenly, because he was being faced with someone and something he didn’t quite understand. He didn’t know her purpose here. He didn’t trust her words. Still, he had asked her a question just now, and though her response had been rather vague, she had _attempted_ to answer. He could just try that again, “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. I’m still trying to figure out why you were with Hide. You were there at the promotion ceremony, too, right?” It wasn't fair. Being at Hide's side is where Kaneki belonged so- “Is it because you can do that?”

“Maybe that’s part of it?” she was thoughtful. A part of her wanted to know, too, especially since she’d been handed the book, but it was reality now, and she had since accepted it long ago though she would never admit out loud to being a pawn, “I’m his bodyguard. You jealous?”

Neither of them had sat down, both of them watching the other cautiously. Kaneki didn’t understand. He was beginning to find her speech annoying. He hadn’t spent much time with foreigners, and he knew better than to make the assumptions that they were all similar, but her speech was certainly not something he was used to. It wasn’t just strange; it was vague and a bit harsh, too.

“Why did he bring you here- to Japan? That must have involved some sort of risk.” It was then that he realized he had been scratching his wrist, so he stopped, pulling the sleeve of his sweater down further. It was so strange being in this big room and being the only two people in it.

Anna was slowly understanding what the other was getting at. He wanted to know about Hide- not her, and that was fine to an extent. Hide had told her to stay away from him, but orders were orders. She could meet Kaneki Ken half way, “Onitsuneyoshi saw value in my being here.”

It took Haise a second to process the name, because he never heard that name used around the people he worked with in the CCG and he never used it himself, but he was aware that some whispered the name in the halls of the CCG whether in spreading rumors or telling jokes, “The chairman? Your country let him take you?” His money was on her being an American, but that could be unfair. She just fit some of the stereotypes he’d read about: arrogant, self-centered, and using expletives left and right. On the flipside, they were also supposed to be friendly.

“Hide has a lot more power than you think he does; he’s a Washuu, after all,” and she hadn’t exactly answered the question, but it was enough.

Kaneki didn’t like that. Hide shouldn’t be risking _anything_ ; he needed to keep himself safe. He needed to take care of _himself_. He could imagine Hide wanting to help others, but this woman didn’t seem in any way _helpless_. Then again, he didn’t really know much of anything about what life was like for ghouls in other countries.

Anna watched him in the silence and raised an eyebrow, “You’re rather ignorant of quite a bit, aren’t you? I’m guessing Hide has always been the brains of your little duo?” At this point, it was clear that he hadn’t come with the intention to hurt her- just get information from her. She stretched her arms above her head and turned to pop her back.

This foreigner was also tactless, and while tactless people were something he had experience with, it was better that he didn’t have to spread his patience so thin so often, “How much has he told you?” When he saw her begin to stretch, he popped several of the bones in his fingers. He couldn’t let his guard down, and he was reading in to every one of her actions.

Her words, however, meant that Hide really _did_ talk to her about him. From the sounds of it, Hide had even spoken to her about their friendship. Kaneki didn’t like the idea. He didn’t understand why Hide thought that was something he needed to talk to anyone about. Then again, he wasn’t sure why it bothered him. In the past, before he’d accepted his life as a ghoul, he’d even talked about Hide to Rize on their date and she’d been a complete stranger. He’d also told Touka about him often during their shifts at Anteiku. He was self-aware enough in this moment to realize that he was being a hypocrite, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of contempt that he had for this woman knowing that Hide had trusted her enough to talk to her about him.

“Enough. I’ve been his shadow for nearly two years now. I even know that _today_ is your birthday.” It was a guess, actually. She assumed only because Hide had been depressed for the rest of the Sunday. At a rather lengthy distance, she had followed him as he haunted random, at least from her perspective, places throughout the 20th Ward like a ghost. When she recalled what he’d done last year, she remembered that around this time last year Hide had purchased a lavishly decorated cake. He had then proceeded to make himself sick by eating the entire cake in one sitting. Anna put two and two together. She hadn’t understood it a year ago, because a year ago she hadn’t known that Kaneki Ken was actually a human turned half-ghoul, but now it felt terribly obvious. Hide could be such an idiot sometimes.

“Today?” the large digital clock on the far side of the room read one-twenty-five, “Oh, my birthday . . . right,” and he took on an empty look. He didn’t celebrate this birthday anymore. He wasn’t exactly Kaneki Ken anymore. Could he celebrate in April? He wasn’t exactly Sasaki Haise anymore, either. It was just a birthday. It didn’t really matter; there had been plenty of years it had gone uncelebrated. No, that was wrong. _You always remembered, didn’t you, Hide?_

His change in disposition did not go unnoticed by the American, and when he cracked the fingers on his other hand, Anna grew nervous again, “Shit, so, you’re not going to fight me to find out where Hide is or something?”

When Kaneki’s gray eyes met her single brown one, he responded quietly, “He’s . . . choosing not to see me, right?”

She didn’t think anyone could look more pathetic than Hide did when he was depressed until now, “He doesn’t really have a choice, actually.” The memory of Hide being an idiot and eating that stupid cake had caused her to feel sorry for them. It was a shitty situation, but it could have been worse. Anna didn’t know everything, sure, but they were both still alive, so they could at least be grateful for that much.

“No, . . . I’m not going to fight you,” he couldn’t really come up with a reason anymore. Everything she said made it sound like she was Hide’s ally, and if that was the case, starting a fight meant making things more difficult for him. That was the last thing Kaneki wanted to accomplish.

She stopped stretching and sat down on the floor, not looking at him as she spoke, “What is Hide to you, anyway?”

“My best friend,” and Sasaki had responded automatically without even considering why she was asking the question in the first place. When she sat down, it was then that he noticed her right ankle; she was wearing the same device he was. Arima was able to track his movements, so was Hide tracking hers?

He didn’t see her roll her eye, “Right, well, you’re a ghoul now. I mean, damn, what are you even doing here with the CCG?”

Kaneki finally relaxed as his wariness began to fade since she seemed to calm down herself, “I can ask you the same thing.”

She actually laughed at that, “I don’t have a choice.” Everything had a price.

“I could leave if I really wanted to, but . . . my place is here.” He could just cut off his foot, right? Doumeki had shown him he could just grow it back. It would mean abandoning everyone and everything he’d built in the last three years, though, and he couldn’t do that. He cared deeply for too many people in the CCG, and Hide was here, too, but really, more than any of that- the Quinx needed him. They did. He couldn’t possibly abandon them . . . not that he’d been doing very well in caring for them lately. He just . . . wasn’t in a good place. It would change. He’d get better. Seeing Hide had actually helped despite the fact that his best friend had _literally_ run away from him.

“Really? I thought we’d be alike in that aspect. Guess not. You believe in coexistence then?” That’s what it meant for Kaneki to live among humans. He was a half ghoul, but that was enough. She was sure he ate humans just as she did in order to survive. That made both of them _monsters_ in this world dominated by humans.

“. . . yes?” he’d never thought of it at length, and though the foreigner seemed to be steering the conversation away from Hide, he was curious enough to continue. He sat down as well and crossed his legs.

She laughed at his response, because she’d seen it coming. Of course, Hide would care for this type of person. “The CCG here in Japan kills ghouls on sight. It’s a war- a war that has been going on for a long time, and you think it will end in compromise?” Her tone was dripping in sarcasm, and it came across incredibly rude in Japanese.

Kaneki frowned. She was mocking him again. Did she always speak so cryptically? This clearly wasn’t a language barrier. Her words were vague on purpose, and her tone did not escape him by any means.

“So, which side are you on?” she pulled the tie out of her hair, gathered all of it up again, and went to work tying it back.

Haise considered their previous encounter. What could she mean by a war? If she was referring to him being unable to choose a side then she must mean the war between humans and ghouls. That conflict had been going on for centuries. What was happening now that was any different from the past? Maybe this wasn’t the best place to have this conversation, even if it was late. There were cameras in this room, after all. He was pretty sure they didn’t have any sort of audio function so they were similar to the ones in Cochlea, but still, she was revealing quite a bit to him just through her actions with her kagune earlier.

“What about you?” he turned the question back on her, because the truth was that he couldn’t answer it himself.

“Me?” she looked as if she hadn’t expected the question at all, “I’ve always been the same. I’m on my side.” He had taken the bait, and she was pleased. She spoke to Hide on occasion on this topic, but to be able to speak to his precious friend like this was actually pretty interesting. “The war will be over soon, anyway, so you better decide quick,” and her smile wasn’t kind. This was also the first time she had spoken with another half ghoul, and hearing his opinion made her feel the tiniest bit resentful.

“Why do you say that?” he didn’t like the idea that there was something big going on that he had no knowledge of, and whether she knew anything or not, she was doing a good job of _acting_ like she did.

“Hm, technology, mostly. That’ll determine which species lives and which will die.”

He immediately remembered Doumeki’s gas, and he looked away from her, feeling sick.

She noticed and watched him carefully.

Sasaki still had all of his fingers and all of his toes. He still had two hands and two feet. He checked.

When he turned back suddenly, he spoke quickly as if moving the conversation along would erase the memories of brittle blood that had resurfaced, “Does one have to die?” The words escaped before he processed them. Kaneki didn’t think so. Besides, ghouls couldn’t live without humans, so clearly, weren’t they the weaker species due to their dependency?

She stared, and, after a moment of processing his question, she smiled, “God, maybe not. Not if someone’s strong enough to save both.” Too bad she wouldn’t be able to tell Hide about this; it sounded like something he’d want to hear.

“Are you implying I’m not?”

She tried not to laugh this time, “My my, don’t you have quite the Messiah complex?”

 _Hide, your raison d'etre is just as insane as you are._ She shook her head but kept her thoughts to herself.

Kaneki had actually applied the entire situation to himself- immediately deciding in the span of a second that he’d be the one to save two entire species from one another. “I’m only implying that it’s possible, I guess.” She’d only said _‘someone’_. Either this guy was completely insane or he had been considering his role in all of this for some time. She hoped it was the former, because the latter was a bit disgusting. How egocentric could one person be?

“How then?” and Haise realized then how invested he’d become in this conversation. Maybe he did have a purpose in all of this. Maybe there was something he could do. The Manager’s words echoed in his mind as if he’d only heard them recently. _Is this what you wanted back then?_

“Do you feel that?”

Kaneki visibly shuddered when he noticed the white thread on the sleeve of his arm. How had he missed that? She withdrew the thread and wrapped it quickly around the middle finger of his left hand. He pulled his hand, taking the thin thread with it, to his face to observe what had intruded onto him so suddenly. He didn’t fear it, but it was too strange to accept without some amount of assessment.

“This is your kagune?”

“Yeah. It takes time, something you can afford very little of, I know, but the shit you can accomplish with this is rather endless, especially when addressing the laws humans use to rule this world.” It wasn’t _exactly_ what she wanted to say, but she didn’t know all of the vocabulary to say it accurately in Japanese.

It was so thin, like touching a feather, and it didn’t seem to have any weight at all. He moved it in his fingers, picking up the end and then dropping it.

Anna watched him study it and realized he wasn’t putting all of it together, so she went on, “I’ve killed many using this skill, and not a single one of those deaths were ever attributed to me or even a ghoul for that matter.”

He looked up at her and searched her expression, “What?”

She pulled her kagune back, and he watched it recede back before dissipating. “Wars are fought with weapons but ended with words. Whatever side you choose isn’t going to benefit from muscle alone, and it sure as hell won’t create a world where you can be- I don’t know- safe.” She leaned back on her hands lazily, clearly relieved she’d at least gotten him to relax around her.

Kaneki was able to follow this. She was saying that people decided when wars were ended- not bombs. Of course, weapons had a great deal to do with it, and he knew that being Japanese, but it was through words that people surrendered or claimed victory. He tried a different question, “What power can, then?”

She had expected that, especially from his prior reaction. “A power that you’ll never have, or at least, one that you’ll never get alone.”

“Shit, could you quit speaking in riddles?” he was getting frustrated. He didn’t curse often, but it happened on occasion.

She smiled, a bit relieved to see more of his personality, and she waved off his words with a dismissive motion of her hand, “I’m not. I’m not. It’s just that . . ." she looked thoughtful a moment as if she were trying to find the words, "Kaneki Ken can’t accomplish it alone.”

Kaneki stared back at her, nonplussed, “Don’t call me that.”

“Well, whatever you choose to go by" the woman shrugged, completely unaffected, "even as you are now, you can’t do it alone. You’re weak.”

“You certainly have a habit of being friendly.” Kaneki cracked a finger again, and after the third time, the other half ghoul had picked up on the pattern.

“I guess I  . . . expect a lot out of you,” and the change in her demeanor was so immediate that Kaneki picked up on it right away.

“Why?”

“Hide, mostly,” and she wasn’t looking at him but had picked a spot on the wall behind him that she seemed to find incredibly interesting.

“What? What do you mean by that?” his eyes narrowed somewhat, but not because he was angry. He was just tired of how vague she was. He was beginning to think that maybe she didn’t actually know exactly what she was trying to say, either.

There really wasn’t a way around this. She stood up, and again, she replaced her expression with a new one that involved something a smile and a softening of her eye, “I have a gift for you, okay?”

Sasaki straightened, unsure of what to make of that. She was smiling, and it looked _strange_.

Anna was now standing over him, “Oh, c’mon. Hide trusts me. Why can’t you?” He stood up suddenly to be nearly eye level with her. He knew something about this wasn’t right. He was going to regret this; he was sure.

“You came here to train tonight, right? What for?” She considered that maybe this wasn’t the best tactic if she was supposed to _make friends_ , but it would be effective in explaining what would come next.

Kaneki didn’t say anything, looking into her single brown eye with silent suspicion.

“You want to get stronger, right? I want to help.”

He felt her hands on his, and he looked down to see that she was holding them, “What?”

“Just trust me.”

Anna grabbed for his wrists, gripping her palms tightly over his wrists and sending her kagune through his wrists immediately. At first, it felt like a pin prick through his skin, something like several ant bites on his wrists. The pain did not build; it was immediate. The ants had found their way inside his veins and were traveling through his arms and through his body, some racing to his heart and others racing towards his kakuhou. He released his kagune suddenly as his kakugan cracked into view and he reached for her. And then the ants reached his heart and he froze, paralyzed with shock from the pain, his rinkaku centimeters from reaching her. The ants were in his heart and he was suddenly very aware of his kakuhou.

In an abrupt rush, Anna pulled her kagune out quickly back through his veins and out his wrists, with it spilled his own kagune, red and thin, and it felt like liquid fire through his veins- his heart- his body. He was opening his mouth to scream when he fell to his knees, but no sound was coming from his lips.

“Happy birthday, Anenome.”

Tears were pouring from his eyes, but his body was in so much shock that he couldn’t respond in any other way. His rinkaku, in tendrils, were sprouting out of his arms, mostly through his wrists and between the phalanges of his fingers. It writhed uncontrollably, and he stared, horrified, wishing not only the pain away but also the horrific _sight_ of his kagune erupting through his skin in such unnatural places. It was only seconds later that he was watching it dissipate into red, pain disappearing as his rinkaku dissolve into thin air.

 _I’m alive. I’m alive. I_ \- and he was vomiting onto the training room floor, eyes searching frantically for the woman who’d just lit the insides of his body on fire and walked away.

She was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter marks the beginning of a sort of "Bomb" of chapters. I will post a chapter a day for four consecutive days. ~~I'm a fan of Steven Universe, so think of it as "Poems Bomb" instead of a "Steven Bomb".~~ I have four chapters ready, but I might not make it to the fifth chapter in time. Sorry in advance!


	19. Double Standard- Dec 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your support! I really appreciate the questions popping up in my box; I squee every time.  
> This chapter has an omake that is optional to read. Some people seemed interested in knowing if Anna ever got in "trouble" for her ear prank, so you can read that if you're curious. Thank you!

“Eyepatch.”

Nothing had been said in the minute after the guard had left, so Amon took it upon himself to initiate the conversation. It was clear to him by the other’s actions that something was different today. While the First Class investigator had put the remote below his chair as always, his hands seemed to be searching for something unable to remain still. While Eyepatch was maintaining his posture, his neck was bent causing his line of vision to fall somewhere other than Amon’s eyes and land somewhere near his feet though it was clear he didn’t really _see_ anything. He also hadn’t said his greeting in the typical kind and polite tone he often used to initiate their discussions. Something was going on.

Amon grew curious when the other didn’t respond, so he tried another method, “Sasaki?”

It worked.

Haise looked up suddenly, a smile on his face in an instant, “A-Amon-san, you’ve never called me by my name before.” He laughed a little, trying to relax. He had an agenda today- one that could determine both of their futures.

“It’s strange hearing your own name sometimes, isn’t it?” And Amon said exactly what he meant. It made him wonder though, if Sasaki Haise’s real name was Kaneki Ken, why was he still going by Sasaki? In this action, the half-ghoul was being a bit of a hypocrite since he was so often bringing up the past with him during his visits. The investigator rarely used Amon’s name when speaking to him, and often even avoided ‘you’. It was easy to do so since their conversations were only ever between the two of them.

“Yeah, yeah, it is,” and his expression softened, “The news reported that it may snow tomorrow.”

Amon looked back at the investigator and folded his chained arms across his chest. The weather was something they had never discussed, but he knew that Eyepatch was not one to waste his time. He said nothing in response. The weather had nothing to do with him, unless Eyepatch was inferring . . .

“You’re still Amon Koutarou,” Haise’s gray eyes met the other half-ghoul’s blue ones, and Amon actually raised an eyebrow at that. Eyepatch had been touching on this for some time, but perhaps today was the day he’d actually come out and say it. Had something changed? Was it actually possible?

No, was it something Amon actually wanted?

“That man died three years ago.”

Haise actually smiled at that, and Amon hadn’t expected that. There was certainly something different with him today. Something had certainly changed. “That man is sitting right here in front of me being stubborn. There are comrades who need him.  . . . There’s a woman who loves him.”

“ . . . Something is different about you today,” Amon unfolded his arms and put his hands on his knees. He’d ignore that last part, but the first part wasn’t something someone who was seven years his junior should be allowed to get away with, “Who is the one being stubborn here?”

Sasaki kept his smile on despite the fact that Amon was going back on his acceptance of help they’d established when they’d last met. “Amon,” he’d purposefully keep using his name until the other man couldn’t ignore it any longer, “I have an idea of what you may have gone through. I’m not going to make an arrogant claim that what you experienced is the same as myself, because there is a huge amount of ignorance I have regarding you and Aogiri, but I am going to say that on the level of what _we_ are- half ghoul- half human, I understand that finding a place in both worlds is nearly impossible . . . . but it is . . . it is possible,” and by the end of his little speech, even Kaneki seemed to believe his own words. He _had_ to believe in this.

Amon closed his eyes. Was he really hearing this? “You’re a child.”

“You have to try. The truth is that they’re the same world.” Sasaki couldn’t afford a ‘no’; he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. If this didn’t work, they’d almost certainly put him to death as soon as Sasaki’s ownership period was over.

“Setting the world _right_ is more important. Don’t you see that, Eyepatch? You’re the one who said it to me in the first place. Or have you forgotten?” This conversation was definitely the most heated one they’d had thus far.

No, of course Sasaki hadn’t forgotten. That’s why he needed Amon to cooperate. “I’m not going to argue that. I’m not. You won’t start with yourself? What I’m saying is that you’re going about it the wrong way.”

“I’m not making a distinction between human or-“

Kaneki cut him off immediately, “No. That’s not what I mean.”

Amon waited and leaned back in his chair a little, somehow straightening his back even more.

Sasaki’s line of vision had fallen once more to the chains around Amon’s ankles. He couldn’t mess this up. He needed to be more careful with his words, but he didn’t how far he could push his luck with Amon. He was scratching at his wrists as he spoke again, “What I mean is that you can’t . . . do it alone,” and those words felt familiar. He’d heard them recently. He lifted his head and met the other’s eyes and held them there, “Besides, what can you do while you’re _here_ anyway?”

Amon had no response for that. There was nothing he could say. There was nothing he could do.

Knowing he was taking a risk, Kaneki spelled it out for him, “Frankly, you won’t actually be able to accomplish anything.”

Still, Amon would not take that lying down, “I don’t need to accept that coming from you. I do not have the benefits you do; it’s not the same. You were a child that-”

And Sasaki actually stood suddenly at that, “Why? Why don’t you, Amon? You were captured. This was forced on you in just the same way it was forced on me.”

“But I lived with _them_ ,” he insisted, not moving a centimeter and clearly in no way intimidated or bothered by the fact that the other half ghoul had stood. Briefly. His life with _them_ was brief, but it was true. While he was not an ally of Aogiri; he wasn’t exactly an enemy, either.

“The path you followed was your own. I worked with Anteiku. After I left, I . . . I turned even a blind eye to some of the injustices I could have stopped simply because I didn’t see a personal benefit from it. If anything, I was worse than you.” Sasaki sat back down and composed himself. Maybe that was stretching things, but likely, Amon could already tell he was grasping at straws, so he’d make every effort necessary.

Amon hadn’t given in yet. “I’ve killed a lot of people.”

“And so have I,” to Kaneki, ghouls were people. “Why are you so convinced you can’t join the CCG again? What is it? Is it-?”

Kaneki was trying to be more understanding.

Amon closed his eyes and crossed his arms.

Kaneki was trying to be more thoughtful.

_No. Don’t tell me._

“Is it pride?” Kaneki stood suddenly again and placed his right knuckles into his left palm to crack all of his fingers in resonance, “Really?! Pride?! You’re going to let something like that get in the way of-”

Amon opened his eyes and narrowed them. His level of calm remained more threatening than Kaneki’s outburst and accusation, “It won’t be the same. Besides, seeing what they did to those children; they are no different from the Tree.”

He meant the Quinx. Kaneki decided not to even argue it. The truth was- he couldn’t. Nearly defeated, he sat down again. His eyes had gone hollow. The Quinx- what had been done to them . . . even if they had agreed to it, it was wrong. No different from Aogiri? He searched the other half ghoul’s face for answers to questions he wasn’t asking. No, it _had_ to be different. It’s not like they’d been tortured. Still, it wasn’t like they fully understood what they’d be getting themselves into. In Sasaki’s mind, the certainty that if they had realized they’d be used up until they were ghouls and could never return to being human again led him to the belief that none of them would have actually agreed. _Nothing_ was worth that price. It wasn’t that being a ghoul was the worst way to live; it was that living as a ghoul after previously living as a human was something he didn’t want to imagine anyone going through- especially them.

Amon noticed that his visitor had fallen inside his own thoughts. His expression softened a bit, but he didn’t pull Sasaki out of them. Instead, he waited.

When Sasaki did speak, however, Amon cut him off before he could even finish, “Obviously it won’t be the same but-”

“You’ve never realized there is a place you can’t turn back to?”

No, Kaneki understood. Of course he did. After he had been captured by Aogiri and tortured by Yamori, he hadn’t been able to return to Anteiku. However, he had a goal in mind then. He really couldn’t see anything beyond that, but he was at least aiming for _something_. Amon could literally do nothing while he was trapped here in Cochlea.

He finally understood how to appeal to his elder. It was his last card, but he couldn’t see any other way.

“ _What have you got to lose, Amon?_ ”

Amon closed his eyes and leaned his head back. He weighed his options only to realize he didn’t really have many- only two. He could slowly die here in Cochlea, or he could be the CCG’s puppet long enough to plan his escape.

He straightened and met the other’s eyes once more.

“Nothing.”

Sasaki finally brightened, “It’s not too bad. I mean- it’s not terrible. You know a lot of those people. There are actually a few that are pretty great,” and he smiled. Haise Sasaki’s life hadn’t been a terrible one, though that was mostly thanks to Arima and Akira.

“We’re different- you and I.”

Kaneki shifted, “Maybe, if anything, they’ll be kinder to you,” and he didn’t realize that a color shadowed his cheeks.

Amon said nothing. That’s not how he saw it at all. He had once been with them, and then he’d turned his sword against them. He was a traitor. Eyepatch had never been on their side in the first place. He’d thought that after working with the CCG as long as he had, Sasaki would have been a bit more aware of many of their viewpoints, but apparently not. He certainly hadn’t expected such innocence in that regard. It could have been that he was in some way being protected.

Sasaki attempted to encourage his line of thought, “I can help you as much as I can.”

Amon felt something well up inside him until it spilled over and out his mouth, his body shaking as it did. Laughter.

“That’s funny?” Haise looked at Amon in bewilderment, smile only growing. It was such a relief.

Koutarou continued to laugh, pulling his head forward, and leaning so that his upper body was supported by his arms resting on his knees. Shadows covered his face as the laughter began to die off.

“I’m not so useless,” Sasaki reasoned, still blushing.

Koutarou showed him a soft smile, “Should it be necessary, then.”

Kaneki finally relaxed. It would work. He’d make it work. “So, you’ll do it?”

“What are the conditions?”

Kaneki restrained himself from throwing up his hands in annoyance, “You’ll get to live. What do they matter?”

Amon knew exactly what he was actually saying. “You don’t know.”

The white haired half-ghoul scratched his wrist absently, “No, I don’t. Arima-san is looking into it for me.” It was his first visit in which he had relaxed enough around Amon to slip into his bad habit.

Koutarou raised an eyebrow at the other’s words, “ _For_ you? Special Class Arima?”

“Yeah . . .” and he leaned into the back of the chair.

Amon waited for an explanation, so Sasaki added, “He’s on our side.”

“ _Our side?”_

That had been the wrong way to say it, and Sasaki knew that, “What I mean is that he wants to help,” and after establishing that, he breathed a sigh of relief. This visit was volumes different from any of those before it, but he hoped that was a good sign.

Amon was certain there was a lot more going on in the CCG now than what he was aware of. Just how much had it changed if Special Class Arima wanted to help a half ghoul? It was true that Eyepatch was different, arguably a special case, but Special Class Arima wanted to _help_? It sounded too far-fetched.

He took a deep breath and released it slowly.

“I’ll work again for the CCG . . . as an investigator.”

Relief flooded Kaneki. It was possible. He’d be able to keep Koutarou alive somehow. He’d add to his never-ending debt with Arima, but after his visit on his birthday, he could only assume that Arima would possibly even be _happy_ with that.

“But we’re forgetting something,” and Kaneki’s tone was serious again, his hands were shaped into fists that rested on his knees nearly imitating Amon’s posture.

“What are you getting at, Eyepatch?”

In as professional a manner as he could maintain, he answered confidently with each word heavy in honest conviction, “I want to pick up where you left off. Give me the location of your research. I want to continue your work.”

Amon stared a moment, looked away, and considered the implications of his words, “My work.” His eyes shifted from the door to the camera in the corner and then back to the other’s gray eyes. He’d seen that look twice before now. “That’s against the law.” It made Eyepatch a murderer- an enemy of the world Amon sought to create.

“You’re right.”

And yet, Eyepatch seemed to understand that.

There was a change in the investigator’s demeanor. He appeared cold somehow, his eyes focused and trained on Amon’s own. The air around him had grown heavy with a quiet greed. He was still showing him respect, but somehow Amon felt his position was being challenged.

Amon voiced the truth anyway, “So, you’d fit the criteria.” It wasn’t a threat. It meant only that he didn’t want to create monsters which he sought to defeat.

 “So, you’re the only one allowed a double standard?”

The boldness of his question was not something Amon expected, “You’re remaining with the CCG.” It was a statement.

Sasaki responded as though it were a question anyway, “Of course.” He could no longer tell if his own confidence was honest or feigned.

“How would you do it?” Amon knew the CCG well enough that they wouldn’t let a half ghoul run around Tokyo freely. There had to be some way they were keeping track of his movements. It was dangerous to trust the other half ghoul, but Amon knew that he already did.

“I have ways.”

Still, he wasn’t behaving in a way now that Amon had expected, “You’ve already planned on me saying ‘yes’.”

And Sasaki knew it was best to be honest, “I have.” In this situation, Amon could easily refuse and there would be nothing Sasaki could do, but if they both had similar goals, then there was a chance. Sasaki was betting on that chance.

 _Why do I trust you, Eyepatch?_ The two began a silent staring contest, neither breaking away from the other’s gaze. Amon knew it was a risk if the other was found out, but he was already facing death in Cochlea regardless. He recalled what he said about working alone. It wasn’t as if Amon would be able to show him the way there. Surely it would be some time before they’d allow him in the field. On top that, there was Kurona to think about. By now, she had likely moved on, but it was something else to consider. If he really told Sasaki where to go, he’d have to tell him more than just the location. Amon replayed their encounters from the past. No, Eyepatch wouldn’t hurt her, but even if he picked up where he’d left off, what was he actually getting out of it?

Sasaki blinked, and the air around him grew lighter as a small smile graced his lips, “In the end, we want the same thing, right?”

Amon nodded his head in short movements as he shifted again in his chair, “So we do, but I’m not entirely sure of your methods.” Even if they had similar goals or motives, they did not operate in the same way.

Kaneki wasn’t entirely sure of his own methods, either, but he had to try. He’d read the entirety of the book he’d been given in one sitting. Now, he just needed to put it to practice.

 

 

<><><><><><><><><><><><><>

 **Omake: Pillow Fight: Dec 19th**  

 

Hide: How did it go?

Anna: (╯°□°）╯︵┻━┻

Hide: Trouble? Is he okay?

Anna: (҂⌣̀_⌣́)

Hide: Use your words.

Anna: At home.

Hide: You’re at the hotel already?

Anna: No. I’ll talk to you at home about it.

<><><><><><><><><> 

Hide was sitting on the edge of the bed when she arrived. The television was on, but when she followed his line of sight, he was actually just staring out the glass balcony door at the gray winter skyline. Hide was a mess. A pair of headphones were on his ears, but when she followed the cord, she noticed they weren’t even plugged in to anything. Anna stood there a moment just taking in the sight. His collared shirt wasn’t even buttoned correctly. She rolled her single eye and took a deep breath. _You can be such an idiot._ This was not going to go well.

“Hide.”

He turned his head, stood up, and pulled his headphones off to toss on the bed all in one motion, “What happened?”

“Well, he was understandably upset.”

He looked ready to grab her as if shaking her might make her words fall from her mouth faster. “Anna-”

“Fuck, okay, but sit down,” her tone was harsher than it needed to be, but she didn’t apologize for it. Of course Hide was upset, but surely that could have been handled a little better? It wasn’t like he didn’t know this day would come. Shouldn’t he have had some sort of speech ready or something? Granted, Hide was exhausted, so maybe he just couldn’t handle it emotionally, but that just meant it had fallen on her to deal with. If anyone knew how poor she was with people, it would be him. She hadn’t expected Anenome to be _that_ desperate anyway.

Hide sat down abruptly on the bed, his left food shaking anxiously, “Well?”

Anna laid down on the floor on her back and looked up at the ceiling; she was making every effort to avoid Hide’s eyes, “He tried to fight me, and I-ugh, remember last Halloween when I stuck my maria in your ear and-”

“-Yes,” and his tone was so clipped that she winced.

“Well, I did that, and he didn’t like it.” It was the understatement of the century, but she was sure that Hide didn’t have a way of finding out otherwise anyway.

“Obviously, it’s gross,” Hide could tell she was nervous, but he couldn’t place why just yet.

She felt the tiniest bit of relief when she heard him shift on the bed. “And then Arima Kishou showed up and-”

The brunette interrupted her, “Special Class Arima was there?” _Is that why you’re nervous?_ He watched the half-ghoul’s face from his position on the bed.

She was biting her lip. “Ah-yeah . . . He told Anenome to leave.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think he was trying to keep him from getting involved with you or . . . me, maybe.”

Hide didn’t know what to make of that.  Did that mean that Arima was trying to help him, or did he see Hide’s return as a threat to Kaneki?

“. . . and he told me to tell you that you . . . must take responsibility should this get out of hand.” Her eye was closed when she spoke and her fingers intertwined below her chest.

“Why would he say that?” He’d known her long enough to pick up when she was uncomfortable, when she lied, and when she was leaving things out. She didn’t have any sort of special signal like Kaneki did, but he had grown to be very skilled at reading expressions. The muscles in the face itself would move subconsciously when a person was lying.

“I guess ‘cause Anenome was upset?”

“Anything else?” He never called her out on it, because the last two always depended on the first- whether she was uncomfortable. She hated talking about anything she couldn’t distance herself from. She often pretended certain things didn’t matter to her when they did. She rarely shared anything about herself, and, aside from that one time, if she did, she’d make an excuse a second later to discredit what she’d already said.

“No, they left.”

This time was different. This time, she was uncomfortable about something that had happened with Kaneki. This time, she was lying about Kaneki. This time, she was leaving out information about Kaneki. “ _Why was Kaneki upset?_ ”

“You ran away.”

“There’s something you’re not telling me.”

This time, he wouldn’t let her get away with it.

“That’s all that happened, Hide.”

“Damn it, Anna!” a pillow was thrown at her face and it was just stiff enough to hurt her nose, but she only crinkled it in response. When she pulled the pillow away, it was just in time to see another pillow land in her face and another and another. She crossed her arms in front of her face to keep from being hit by the fluff, and when Hide ceased his attack, she slowly pulled her arms away. Pulling the last pillow away from the mountain on top of her that had resulted from his frustration, her single eye found its way to his expression. Anna had seen him angry, but he was too understanding; Hide was too thoughtful of a person for his anger to last longer than a few minutes.

Hide took a deep breath and let it out before he finally spoke again. “You can lie to me about anything else, but not this.”

 _You know I’m lying. . . . Of course you know I’m lying._ But how much? How much did he know? She’d known for a while that he could mostly see through her. She’d realized shortly after he didn’t believe a word about her past. Still- he never called her out on anything, so she was never sure what he did or didn’t believe- not completely. He’d actually called her out on her lie this time, though. For him. Kaneki Ken meant that much to him.

“What did you say to Arima?”

“Nothing,” and since he was all that filled her vision, she had to turn her head to the side to avoid meeting his eyes.

He wasn’t smiling when he kicked the nearest pillow in her direction only causing it to fall from one side to its other without ever actually leaving the ground. However playful his actions were, his tone was clearly agitated, “Tell me the truth.”

The American studied the short hotel room hallway that lead from the room to the door and absently appreciated the pattern in the carpet while she bit her lip, “I told him . . . to . . . take care of his pet and there wouldn’t be any trouble.”

Hide deflated completely, “What is _wrong_ with you?” He could feel a headache coming on.

“. . . sorry,” and she honestly meant that.

The silence went on for some time as Hide considered her position. In quiet speech, he asked, “Special Class Arima is intimidating, isn’t he?”

“Fucking understatement,” she still hadn’t turned back to look at Hide.

“You called Kaneki a _‘pet’_?” The headache was in full force now.

She nodded her head and petals from her eyepatch fell flatly into the carpet.

Hide fell back into the bed and studied the ceiling. He could only reason that fear had possessed her, but even still, it wasn’t an excuse to be cruel. “You _suck_ at making friends.” Not that he wanted them to be friends. He had to stay away from Ken, and so did she, especially after what had happened. After this fiasco, he was even more convinced he couldn’t be anywhere near Ken. After a beat, he stood up and stretched.

When the half-ghoul didn’t say anything else, he crouched beside her, “Hey, tell me he’s okay.”

“He’s not okay.” Hide had made it clear that his raison d'etre was not something she was allowed to lie about. Anna sat up and leaned against the wall behind her, gathering the pillows on the floor around her as he sat on the floor across from her with his back against the bed.

Honesty, for once, was refreshing, but it was not what he needed to hear. He finally caught her single eye in his brown ones, and she didn’t look away, “Why?” He searched her face for a clue.

She considered what she’d done to him, “I don’t know,” and that was true. She had no clue as to why he’d reacted like that. Sure, she had triggered _something_ , but that something had nothing to do with her. Hide’s dearest friend had endured a struggle she couldn’t even imagine. There were few things she could think of that could cause someone to claw at their own ears.

Hide saw that she wasn’t lying, but he still wasn’t satisfied, “. . . What did you think of him?”

Anna grabbed a pillow, wrapped her arms around it, and went back to studying the pattern in the carpet simply unable to understand why he cared what she thought. That didn’t make any sense.

“Well, he . . . seemed pretty desperate to . . .”

“To?” Hide’s tone softened into something light and airy, “C’mon, spit it out. It’s weird when you try to spare my feelings.”

“. . . is it?” and for a reason she couldn’t place, those words didn’t sit right with her.

“Just tell me,” he assured her.

“-to see you. He was desperate to meet with you.” She looked back up at the human again, but he was staring down the hallway.

“Oh.” And that was all he said.

Hide turned his head and looked at the digital clock on the night stand beside the bed. A moment later, and he was up in front of the mirror in the corner of the hotel room unbuttoning and then buttoning his shirt correctly. The half-ghoul watched as he chose a tie from his suitcase and began to tie it by watching his own reflection.

Anna remained on the floor behind the pillow she was hugging, and when he said nothing, she asked, “Where are you going?”

“Out. I’m meeting with my father for dinner. You’re not coming.”

She turned her head to look at the same clock and then turned back to him, “But it’s only two.”

“Stay at the hotel,” and it was in this demand that she realized that this time, she had really fucked up. She understood that this was her _punishment_. Hide knew her well. Even if he had no way to exactly enforce his words, simply _ordering_ her to stay home was enough.

It separated them; she was merely an employee. The truth was that for all the efforts Anna made to show how little she cared, she had been spoiled by Hide’s kindness.   

“Fine.” If she couldn’t walk with him, then she wasn’t allowed to be his shadow, either. Whatever trust he did have in her had been damaged.

“I’ll be back late,” he checked the cufflinks on his blazer and straightened his collar.

Anna stared at the carpet. She’d made Hide angry, and she hated that. She hated even more that she cared that he was angry in the first place. It was just a stupid waste of time.

“Just stay away from him,” and his left hand was at his forehead as he rubbed his temples in circles with his thumb and middle finger.

She finally stood up, and, as if flipping a switch, her whole demeanor changed. She waved off his words and rolled her eye before she began picking up the pillows off the floor, “Yes, yes. He has the death god on standby. You don’t have to tell me twice.”

She was fixing the pillows on the bed when he left, and when she heard the door shut, she fell face first on top of the bed.

It took her less than a minute before she decided to follow him anyway. She’d just keep her distance. What Hide didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

<><><><><><><><><><> 

“Hideyoshi met with Yoshitoki today for dinner.” She was standing so far from the old man’s desk that she felt like she had to scream in order for him to hear her.

“Go on.”

Really, he looked exactly how his voice sounded, so after their first meeting, he really didn’t hold any surprises. The half-ghoul felt like she was staring at the Hollywood version of one of those old and wise Kung Fu masters. Well, he had the old part down, anyway. She had no clue what could be said for his wisdom or even his kung fu skills for that matter. “They discussed Matsuri. From the conversation, I got the impression Yoshitoki is more supportive of Hideyoshi than Matsuri.”

“Don’t waste my time with what I already know.”

Anna rolled her single eye. Right, and she was just supposed to automatically know what he did and didn’t know?

She took a while before responding again. She reviewed their conversations, playing them back in her head since she’d purposely recorded them for just such an occasion. “Nothing they discussed was of any substance, really. Hide talked about his mother. Oh, they’re both against the continuation of the Quinx project?”

“I see.”

It wasn’t that the old man didn’t have an intimidating presence. She knew he could kill her easily, and not just because of his reputation. Even if he was old and likely hadn’t done shit outside the confines of his massive office room in some time, she could smell death on him. She was able to somewhat relax around him, because she understood how he operated and what her role was. As long as she played her part, he wasn’t going to kill her.

“That’s all you have for me?”

It could come up since Arima Kishou had been there, so the half ghoul felt obligated to mention it, “An-Kaneki Ken saw Hide outside of headquarters today. Hide left and didn’t speak to him. I kept the two separated. Arima Kishou appeared and took Kaneki away.”

“Arima?”

“Yes, sir. I think he’s trying to keep them apart, too.”

He didn’t say anything, and Anna, not quite knowing what to do with the silence, decided for once to just be patient. That meant that instead of saying something, she would just take down and redo her hair while she waited. She was finishing the last loop of her bun when the old man produced a book, set it on his desk, and slid it to the edge nearest to her, “I want you to meet with Sasaki Haise. Gain his trust.”

She nearly choked, “Sir?” She was supposed to make friends now? What was this? She could hear Hide’s words in the back of her mind. _‘You suck at making friends.’_ Was this karma?

“Give him this,” and he motioned for her to come closer.

The half-ghoul took the book in question and then returned to her previous position not wishing to be close to the old man for a second longer. She held the book in her hands and read the title, instantly recognizing it despite it being in a different language. She had the same book in English. It was one of her few possessions she’d had since before she was imprisoned. It was handwritten, too, just like hers.

Questions flooded her mind and her wide eye was telling, “Where did you get this?”

He completely ignored her question, “First Class Sasaki still has a use, and as long as he’s kept separate from Hideyoshi, he’ll prove his worth.”

“Do you know him-the author-he-” she needed to know.

“You’re dismissed.”

“Please, could you tell me if-”

“Dismissed.”

And she turned to go, stopping at the door of his office to affirm, “You promised territories don’t matter.”

“They don’t.”

The half ghoul turned the door handle and exited. This was worth it. It was. Sometimes, sacrifices had to be made for freedom.

<><><><><><><><><><><><> 

The old man checked the logs. Hideyoshi Washuu had not passed through security today. If they weren’t outside of headquarters, _where were they really_? Was this the first time she’d lied? He wouldn’t waste time with a worthless pawn.


	20. A Bug in Your Ear- Dec 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter where Anna is a prominent character, so if you don't like her, this is the last time you'll have to deal with her, and if you do like her, well, you'll see her at parties and the like following Hide around.
> 
> This chapter is long, and it is a little confusing. Please forgive me, and please have an open mind!

**Nightmares begin before you are aware of them. They are extremely difficult to predict or prevent.***

Anna was the last person he’d expected to see at the door of the chateau at nine at night. He searched the fish-eye lens of the peephole for Hide, and when he didn’t see him, he reluctantly unhooked the chain and opened the door.

"Apology wine." The other half ghoul held a long cloth bag that had been tied with tassels at the top and brought it up to eye level for Sasaki to inspect. She was smiling and over her right eye two purple flowers formed a stiff bouquet.

Sasaki didn’t follow, "What?" A greeting would have been nice. Maybe an explanation? Did she really think he’d actually _appreciated_ her _last_ gift? She had left him in a puddle of his own vomit in the basement training room of headquarters on his birthday. It wasn’t the best way to make _friends_ with someone.

"This is apology wine," and her smile somehow only grew and she was laughing a little, realizing she wasn’t really clarifying anything but feeling too uncomfortable to go into detail, she left it at that. She never liked these sorts of things, even when they were necessary.

"I don't understand." She was clearly expecting to be invited in, but Sasaki had no intention to let someone so suspicious inside his home especially after what she’d done. He couldn’t think of what she was actually capable of as long as he was on his guard, but regardless; she was clearly a dangerous person. Maybe their conversation up until the last minute hadn’t been pleasant, but it _had_ been interesting. Still, that last minute was enough to return his opinion to one of disgust.

"Well, I did a number on you yesterday." She dropped the bag to hold it by the tassels and it swung dangerously low to the concrete below. “I guess our first meeting wasn’t too hot either . . .”

"Did a number." Haise was convinced her Japanese was off again. Their meeting hadn’t been ‘hot’? Part of him was wondering why he hadn’t just slammed the door in her face and gone about his evening.

She spoke in English, "Ah, it's an idiom. I don't know any Japanese idioms.” She didn’t know the word for _idiom_ in Japanese, either. She switched back to Japanese, “It means . . . I was very unkind with you yesterday . . . so, yeah, I just wanted to apologize." She was blushing, something that hardly ever happened, but her tone was annoyed. Anna knew she was getting defensive, but on top of that, she just felt embarrassed. Were this her own decision, she wouldn’t be here, either, but of course she couldn’t tell _him_ that. This was all part of her job, sure, but her job was much easier when it didn’t involve interacting with people other than Hide.

**Mercy is an important practice that should never be held synonymous with “weak”. Mercy is the courage to allow room for chaos. Mercy is as much a necessity as chaos.**

Now it made sense. Anna had come to his home to apologize for how she had treated him in the training facility. No, it didn’t make sense, "So you brought wine?" His tone was entirely unforgiving.

Misinterpreting his meaning, she assumed he was checking something else, "It's a special kind, you know? Or do you not drink? Have you had blood wine, because if not-damn, you should start," the half ghoul bit her lower lip and stared up at him with her single eye before adding, “Sooooo . . .”

Sasaki, deciding he was through with Japanese pleasantries with the foreigner, held his hands out for the wine and reached for it, "Well, thank you." Of course he knew how to be polite, but he wasn’t going to act like he was accepting her apology.

The American put a hand up to stop him, palm flat, "Wait."

"What?" his thinly veiled annoyance and impatience with her was reaching a new height.

"Invite me in?" her single eye smiled at him, and it did nothing to ease his concerns.

"Excuse me?" Sasaki was attempting to ask her to leave, but while saying what he had with the tone he had used would have spoken clear intentions to a fellow Japanese, the whole meaning was lost on the American.

Of course, she misinterpreted this as well. Clearly he just didn’t see what was going on here and needed it spelled out for him, "This is the part where you invite me in, and then I pour two glasses- one for the each of us. Then, we spend the next several hours sharing stories about Hide, because for all the things we have in common, he is certainly the most interesting."

He hadn’t expected her response. Anna was difficult, but not in a way he was used to. She didn’t seem to have ill will, but her speech and actions only served to upset him more. Still, she mentioned Hide. Anything about Hide would be nice to hear, because simply talking about him was nice. Remembering him was one thing, but _talking_ about him with someone else _made_ _his memory more real_ \- more _alive_. It made him feel more present in Kaneki’s life. "Well-"

"Ok! I'd love to join you for a drink- thank you!" Anna was in the chateau before he could protest.

"I didn't actually just-" he turned his back to the front door and watched her scan the room.

"Is it just us or is your squad home?" she slid off her pumps and looked around the large living area as she headed straight for the kitchen.

"Well, only Urie is here but-"

"Let's open her up, and then we can kick back and relax. You have a balcony or anything? How about the roof?" The foreigner kept moving through the chateau as though it were her own residence.

"Well, not really but-" and he finally gave up and closed and locked the front door.

"Oh, then the roof would be cool. This pl-"

"No." Being outside would mean it’d be easier for the two of them to fight.

"Ok. Ok. Damn." He didn’t see her expression, but her tone told him she wasn’t taking him very seriously.

Kaneki cracked a finger on his right hand, " _You need to leave._ ”

She completely ignored his tone and began opening cabinets, "Glasses?"

 **In the search for truth, one must first commit to many lies.** **Even then, in committing thousands of mistakes, one will never uncover a certain truth.**

Sasaki spoke without thinking, his motivation likely just to keep her from rummaging through the entire kitchen, "The cabinet on the left."

"Thanks!” and she finally responded to his cold request for her to leave by meeting his cool gray eyes and saying, “Look, I’m not the bad guy, okay?"

It sounded like something Hide would say except that it would have sounded more genuine and comical coming from him. Coming from her, it just sounded _creepy_.

Kaneki took a deep breath and released it, "You’re the first foreigner I’ve ever met that’s held a complete disregard for Japanese etiquette." He cracked a bone in his finger, “You’re not even trying.”

"Ah, yeah . . . Hide has scolded me a few times already." She’d throw his name around as much as she needed to if it meant buying more time with him. The old man had practically asked the impossible from her, but it wasn’t like she could refuse. “You can ask me about Hide, you know? I can’t tell you _everything_ , but I can tell you some.”

**Jealousy exists only in the enemies of this world.**

“How long have you been with him?” he took the glass of wine, but when she motioned to meet his glass with her own in a toast, he didn’t move to meet hers. She shrugged and sipped at the red liquid.

**Those that limit their sense of self by excluding others therefore envy the part of themselves they have decidedly removed – like cutting off one’s limbs and envying others who still have them.**

“A year and a half or so- almost two years.”

“What’s life been like for him?” After he saw her drink, he took a sip himself, blushing lightly from the taste. It was delicious, and he couldn’t imagine having had the opportunity to drink it at the party a few days ago. It would have gone straight to his head. Kaneki had alcohol only once with Hide when they were first years in high school mostly out of Hide’s curiosity than anything else. Beyond his memories of Hide being about three times more clingy than he usually was and at least twice as energetic, he could only remember that the alcohol had tasted awful. If the alcohol humans drank tasted so awful, why did they drink it?

 **Blood carries more than what can be read through code; blood carries feeling. To take in another’s blood is to accept their will in conjunction with one’s own. To reject their will is to reject oneself.**  

“Hell.” The answer was simple and immediate.

“Hell?” Kaneki frowned, staring at his glass filled with red blood wine without really seeing it. What could _‘hell’_ mean? Kaneki himself had a very clear definition of hell- strapped to a chair, gambling with lives, snipped toes, severed limbs- But for Hide? He was human. What did _hell_ mean to humans, and why was he subjecting himself to this? He was a Washuu, okay, but it wasn’t like he’d ever mentioned it before. He shouldn’t have attended Kamii if he was going to join the CCG; he should have entered the academy. So why . . . ?

“You think it’s your fault. God, you’re rather egocentric. You’re the kind of guy who thinks he’s the main character, right?” and Anna actually laughed at that. A human turned half ghoul would certainly make for an interesting story.

**Selfishness and Individuality are both enemies of this world. All that are enemies of this world seek to fulfill a hunger that may never be fulfilled; those enemies are governed by selfish desires and individualistic ideas.**

Kaneki leaned his back against the kitchen counter. “You’re actually quite . . . malicious.” He finally called her out on this, being as direct as possible. He could see Hide putting up with this, but really she was just trying his patience.

Instead of apologizing, she shrugged and sipped the wine, “I get defensive around nice people.” And after a beat, she went on, “Look, Hide’s a Washuu- that family name has been stained in ghoul blood for generations, right? Of course his life would be no different. You don’t just walk away from something like that.”

Kaneki took a moment to really consider this. It wasn’t as if it hadn’t been on the forefront of his mind since he’d found out from Hori, but it was still something he was trying to wrap his head around. Hide being a Washuu meant more than a name and what responsibilities came with that name. It also meant disdain from others- jealousy, too. It meant that Hide was possibly shunned and neglected by others. It meant Hide was lonelier . . . _First I abandoned you, and then you were forced to abandon your normal life? Why?_

**_Rabbits die of loneliness, right, Kaneki-kun? You thought you were protecting him, but really, you were slowly killing him, hm? How tragic. How selfish you are. But that’s okay. You have to take care of yourself, too, right, Kaneki-kun?_ **

_I’m sorry, Hide._

Anna watched as the seconds ticked by and Sasaki’s expression slowly melted into sorrow. So, maybe it was true that Hide acted with Kaneki’s interests in mind, but it wasn’t Anenome’s damn fault that Hide carried the blood he did. _Ridiculous. I swear the two of you were made for each other._ The American sipped her wine before finally breaking the silence, “Ugh, this is kind of sick. Okay, look, you want to help him, right?”

Sasaki blinked. What exactly was sick? “I do.” Of course he did. Kaneki wanted to do more than help him in all honesty, but he’d settle for what Hide would allow him. But if Hide didn’t want to see him or to have him be involved, how could he possibly help?

“Get strong.” She tipped her wine glass in gesture in his direction.

He hadn’t expected that at all, and he felt his eyes travel over her, studying her posture and expression as if the words were holding behind them some other meaning.

**A desire should never be attempted to be fulfilled until the limits of that desire are set. One must know where the border between fulfillment and greed exist to keep from passing beyond fulfillment into a greedy, selfish desire.**

“You have to get strong, but stay out of trouble. You can’t bring attention to yourself, okay? You gotta stay under the radar- that make sense?” She felt his eyes on her but relaxed against the counter in front of the sink opposite the other half ghoul. The wine was particularly nice; she’d have to revisit that bar.

Sasaki only nodded. Of course it made sense, but _why_ she was suggesting this and _how_ he could manage it for Hide- that’s what he didn’t understand.

“Look, I’m helpful to him, because I don’t get involved. Onitsuneyoshi has it out for you, you know?”

“What? Seriously?” he didn’t hide his surprise on his face. He’d spoken with the old man before, and he had been the one who, after his memories had returned, had decided to keep him alive and stay with the Quinx. He also was the Chairman of the CCG, its CEO, whatever title need be afforded; he had all the power he needed to swat Haise down like a common house fly. Why on Earth hadn’t he if he actually wanted him dead? Could he really trust this? No, he didn’t have to. Somehow, he was still on the fence of whether or not he could trust her. She seemed so well informed one minute, and then she was only pissing him off and bringing him pain the next.

“ _Oh yeah.”_ That was the only explanation she offered him, “So, you gotta be careful, you know? No one can know that you’re actually helping Hide in some way- like, not even Hide- at least to some extent. Here, I have this gift for you.” She opened her pink shoulder strapped purse that had been sitting on her hip and pulled from it a small black book.

As soon as he’d heard the word _gift_ , his kakugan had blinked into view, but when he saw her hold out  the book to him, he blinked it away, set down his wine glass, and took it from her hand, “A book?”

“Yeah, it’s the teachings of Rono. He’s Japanese actually. In the book, it talks about controlling your RC cells and shit.” She bit her lip as she watched him hold the book in his hands, read the title, trace the bindings. It certainly wasn’t a normal book by any means. It looked more like a journal than anything else.

Kaneki opened the book to a random page and read some of it, a bit shocked to find that it was handwritten. He touched the thick paper it was made from and his fingers traced the black ink that sat in brave small strokes on top of the damp paper. “ **The world exists only in the future. The past is merely a record of loss and gain, failures and achievements. The world is defined by the hopes placed in the future, not the phantom dreams and nightmares of the past. Those weighed down by the past have no effect on this world. Hope is the birth of the future. Only with hope can creation exist.** . . . What is this? It barely makes sense.” Despite how impressed he was with the effortlessly beautiful penmanship, he made a face at the text that resembled clear exasperation.

Anna didn’t actually understand half of what he’d just said in Japanese, but she’d read it enough times in English to take a guess, “Well, it’s a mix of science and philosophy if you will. Like, I kind of think of the author as a spiritualist, actually. Rono is obviously an experienced ghoul- a strong one- with a maria, otherwise he wouldn’t know all this shit about ghouls and marias and what-not. He has a chapter about half ghouls, too, actually, so I guess he could be one, too, or maybe he knows one. Still, he is not much of a writer. It’s either very cut and dry in explanations of the science of a ghoul’s body or it’s so incredibly ambiguous it is hard to tell if he is discussing philosophy or magic or just making shit up as he goes along.” She poured herself another glass of the wine, her eyes on the red liquid as she went on, “Still, Anenome, I think this book could help you right now.” _If you get from it what you need to . . ._ She’d been reading over the book for years. She’d committed some of it even to memory. It wasn’t something that could be understood in one sitting. It had to be dissected.

“Anenome?” he looked up from the book curiously, his gray eyes meeting her single brown one. She was clearly dropping her guard around him, and it made her easier to speak with despite the fact that her speech was becoming spotted with _‘like’s_ , ‘ _you know’s_ and various expletives.

“Sorry, it’s a flower. A white one. Damn- yeah- I don’t know the Japanese name for it.” She shrugged it off and sipped her wine.

“Ah,” Kaneki exhaled and picked up his wine glass again, “Sasaki is fine.”

“Noted.”

He was scanning the book still open in his left hand and holding the wine in his right. “Is this what taught you how to use your kagune like that?” He felt a headache coming on. He’d need to get his glasses if he was going to continue reading. He felt a faint pain behind his eyes.

“Oh yeah. You see, I actually have formed a maria- ah- the big one- over your body, you know?”

Sasaki raised an eyebrow and looked up from the book, “Kakuja?” Anna was clearly placing some amount of trust in him if she was comfortable enough to drink such strong wine in his presence, but he tried not to think about it.

“Right, so I formed a kakuja before, like, years ago, but I never go that far anymore- like- I don’t manifest it physically. It’s not like that excess of RC cells isn’t there, though. I’ve just learned to channel them in another way.”

“Like how?” This was all very new to Kaneki. He’d read what little was available in the databases of the CCG Research Department, but that was worlds different from speaking to someone who was actually like him- a half ghoul. When he’d spoken to Dr. Shiba in the past, even, he hadn’t been entirely aware of the biology of actual kakujas. He was the closest thing the CCG had to an expert on ghoul biology, but he had never actually had a conversation with Sasaki concerning kagune and kakujas and their relation to RC Cells. Was what Anna could do something entirely new, or was it just something that Kaneki was unaware of?

“Well, instead of using the RC cells to grow a protective armor, I just channel them through my body. The book goes into it. You know, ‘cause everything really depends on the RC cells and the RC cells are in your blood, so if you can manipulate the cells in your blood when outside your body, of course you can do the same when they’re inside your body.”

“With your mind?” he looked skeptical.

**At all times, there are two thoughts within oneself- the thoughts of one’s mind and the thoughts of one’s body. One’s mind does not command one’s body, and one’s body does not command one’s mind. Rather, the two are in constant conversation.**

“Yeah, of course they’re influenced with the mind. Think about it. I’ve only read about your history, but you got a female maria transplanted inside you, right? But, over time, and as you ate, your . . . kagune . . . became distinguishable from hers right? I read that it was like a centipede or something?”

“Yes.” She had access to information he didn’t even see in his own file? Who else could see that?

“Well, you like bugs?” she laughed a little and gestured towards him with her wine glass again, not pointing, but clearly attempting to engage his attention, “Damn, you identify with centipedes in some way?”

_‘The Chinese Red Headed Centipede. . . . Have you heard of it?’_

Kaneki shuttered and leaned forward, his white hair falling forward over his face. “No, I wouldn’t call-How do you even know these things?” He put the book down on the counter behind him, but he didn’t look back up at her.

_‘I’m gonna try putting this guy in your ear, all right?’_

She had struck a nerve, it seemed, but she was too focused on the conversation to put together that _centipedes_ had anything to do with his prior suffering. “Then maybe in your subconscious or something you have strong feelings about centipedes? Whatever. The point I’m trying to prove here is that-like- the way your maria is formed is entirely dependent on your own thoughts. If you liked fucking butterflies instead of centipedes, then you’d have some weird butterfly kakuja instead.” She decided she may as well answer his question as well, “Oh, and I know these things, because I log into the CCG database under Hide’s log in all the time. He has access to almost everything, or, at least it seems that way.”

“He lets you do that?” he looked up again to meet her eye, his own holding that quiet sorrow she couldn’t quite place.

Anna noticed that his expression was distant again, but misinterpreted the change. _Jeez, are you going to get depressed every time we talk about the guy?_ “He sort of gave up after about a year of me being nosey.”

Kaneki didn’t know what to say to that. He’d need to dissect that later. On top of that, though, it meant that he couldn’t see his whole file and that information about his life as Kaneki Ken was still accessible somewhere in the database for some people- but who? How much did the CCG actually know? Were Touka and the others safe if they knew about Anteiku? Re: was different, of course, but it was a coffee shop, and if they had information on the others from Anteiku, was it possible that they were still looking for them? It had been nearly three years. Maybe he was worrying unnecessarily. He took a moment to calm his own thoughts and tried to steer the conversation back to the contents of the book, “So, you’re saying that with my mind, I can not only shape my kagune, but I can also shape my kakuja?”

**We are all merely muscles that keep society breathing, yet we must remember that we, too, are made of the same.**

“Yes, exactly. Or, as I do, instead of using your excess of RC Cells to even form a kakuja, you can do other things with them. I push them through my RC cell veins and out my skin, so they can emit anywhere where there is a vein. It looks like magic, but it’s really not- just a lot of concentration. It takes a fuck-ton of RC cells to produce that many kagune though, like you saw the other night, so it’s kind of a bitch to keep up with. I haven’t formed a kakuja in years- just a large number of kagune; I might not be able to even form a kakuja any longer.” She took another sip of the wine, “Yeah, probably not.”

“That’s amazing.” It really was if he was understanding her correctly.

Anna set down her wine glass and crossed her arms in front of her, “It’s really not, though. Like-it just takes practice. I actually can’t form my original kagune any longer, either. It has lost its shape.” She looked sad, briefly, but the expression had left as quickly as it had come, “Anyway, take the book. Read it. Maybe it’ll help.”

Kaneki didn’t understand how a kagune could lose its shape, but something else she had said was far more pressing, “Wait, but with this, you’re inferring that-”

_It’s a bitch to keep up with?_

This was the part she had to _trust_ Anenome with. “Well, yeah. If you want to grow strong, you have to eat your vegetables, you know?”

“Vegetables . . .” No, _they_ weren’t vegetables; _they_ were poison.

“I grew up around humans. That’s another . . . like-saying. Ugh, you know what I mean,” she nearly finished her wine, before setting it down on the counter again. She’d let slip personal information, but she ignored it. It wasn’t like Kaneki had any background information on her in the first place.

He would have smiled at her frustration if it wasn’t for the topic of their conversation.

**True innocence has no past to breed hope for the future. Innocence is the absence of history and future and can exist only in the brief moment of the present.**

What she was admitting to, and what she was suggesting was suicide. He’d been down that path. He’d lost his mind. How could it possibly be different this time? Of course, it wasn’t like he’d had a choice when Doumeki had forced him, but to choose to turn to such a diet again, he’d have to be _desperate_.  

“I’m not sure I can do that again.”

He’d _hurt_ too many people in the process before. Of course, he hadn’t really known what he was doing at the time, but even if he did, would it change anything?

She hated his current expression, and without realizing it, her eyes had narrowed as she watched him deliberate internally. It made her feel _guilt_ , and she hated dealing with those sorts of things, “You’re over-thinking it. Look, if you are able to control it, what does it matter? Like-you can only _benefit_ from doing it. _You’d be more useful to Hide if you were stronger._ You’d be stronger if you, you know, had a better idea of how to fucking control it. That was your problem in the past, right?” It had said so in his file, “Shit, just read the book- carefully.” Her tone had been harsher than she’d meant it to be, so she looked up at the high ceiling and noticed for the first time how huge this place was.

“Okay, I’ll read it,” but that wasn’t a promise that he’d follow any of its practices.

“Good plan,” she responded immediately, her internal filter all but gone.

He wanted to ask how long she’d been eating other ghouls. He didn’t.

**Fear exists only due to the separation of oneself and the world. When facing the unknown, you must accept it as an extension of yourself; then, you will never have anything to fear.**

Apparently, Anna didn’t think he was convinced, because the half ghoul went on, “Any present I give you is to help, okay? I’m on Hide’s side and he’s on your side, so by extension, I have the best intentions for you, you know?”

Sasaki actually smiled at that and called her out immediately, “That’s not what you said yesterday. You said before that you were on your own side.”

“Uh, fuck, well, are you saying it’s impossible that Hide and I would want the same thing?” after meeting his eyes briefly, she had turned her head to avoid looking at him, and it was in this moment that she appeared rather child-like.

It made him chuckle, but it didn’t change his mind. “I don’t know. You’re a really suspicious person.”

“You really need to loosen up, Anemone.” She took off her eyepatch and unpinned the wolfsbane from it. Handling it carefully, she turned to Kaneki and walked up to him. When she saw him tense up, she rolled her single eye and encouraged him softly, “Hold still,” and, carefully, she pinned the two purple flowers to his front chest pocket.

**The reach of self is beyond one’s understanding of reality one can manage to present. Only through the limitless imagination of the mind can self be achieved. Therefore, the self can never quite know its identity. To know one’s own identity is to have complete knowledge and understanding of this world.**

“What are you doing?” the wine must have taken effect on him as well, because he was blushing when she moved away and returned to her position at the opposite side of the kitchen.

“It’s a ‘carnation’. It keeps evil away,” and she said carnation in English, because she didn’t know how to say it in Japanese. It was better that way, anyway. He might catch her lie. If his file was accurate, she was sure that he’d be fine. His RC cell count was plenty high enough not to be bothered by wolfsbane if he handled it; at the most, if he _ingested_ it for God knows whatever reason, the most he would get would be a stomachache.

“Oh.” Kaneki wasn’t sure what to make of the flowers, but he was too distracted by her eye to ask, “Your eye-” It looked like a pearl, and he couldn’t help but stare.

“Oh, yeah. You know how to strengthen RC cell pathways, right?” Surely he knew at least that much.

He nodded, “Yeah, it’s based on where you’ve been injured.”

“Right, well, aside from where my maria actually is, I can also produce it from my eye.”

“What?” Kaneki didn’t understand how this was different from her hands or wrists as he’d seen in the training facility.

In that moment, Anna decided that the best way to explain it would just be to demonstrate, so within a second, her kagune, in the form of thirty or so tendrils, spilled from her eye, liquefied, and then dissipated. She repeated the process, but hardened it quickly so that it could fill the space in her eye socket once more.

Kaneki just stared. So from her RC cell veins elsewhere, she could only produce single strands, but from her eye, she could produce many? It had looked like something out of a horror manga that Hide had read on occassion when they were in high school. “You have an ukaku?” It was only a guess. Also, if it was erupting from her eye, that meant her eye had been damaged and healed repetitively, right? He shoved the thought to the back of his mind.

Anna pointed to her shoulder, “Shoulder type, right?” She hadn’t learned the names for the different types in Japanese by any means.

Kaneki nodded as he poured another glass of the wine, the bottle nearly empty.

“Yeah.” She was thoughtful a moment, “Sorry . . . that might be why it’s more painful for you. Maybe it will take more practice, but-”

“Be more specific,” he sipped at the wine and felt color in his cheeks. He felt a bit embarrassed from how delicious it actually tasted.

“Ah, when I tried to draw your maria out through your wrists . . . like-since outside my body, my mari-kagune-kagune, um, since outside my body, my shoulder kagune can be a nearly liquid form, when it is traveling through my body, it can move fluidly whether I’m moving it or the cells themselves. Your kagune can only be solid outside your body, so I think . . . you have to move the cells inside your body and they will form your kagune when released. My cells can move faster than yours, I think.” She didn’t sound sure, herself. She’d never actually spoken to anyone about this, the book, kakuja- nothing. She was only speculating. “I guess I kind of fucked up,” she admitted, deciding the ceiling was a lot more interesting than Kaneki’s bewildered expression at the moment.

Her disjointed speech had reached new heights, but he was pretty sure he was following it correctly. Somehow, it wasn’t as annoying as before. It might have been because they had relaxed in each other’s presence more, “So, you did that to me because you were trying to teach me something?”

Anna was surprised by his conclusion. It wasn’t inaccurate, but it was actually quite thoughtful, and she hadn’t expected him to understand that. Maybe he wasn’t as much of an idiot as she thought. Maybe he could do this. “Yeah . . . you know how some ghouls have heightened senses, right?”

“Yeah,” Haise pointed to his nose, “I can find the best coffee within several miles,” and he grinned.

 _You’re a dork._ “Well, I don’t have a great nose or eyes or hearing. Thankfully, I don’t have a special palette or anything, either. I- I can just feel really well. I mean, like, not with my hands but with my kagune. Anyway, it’s about whatever you choose to do with your maria, right?” She wasn’t really sure she was making sense herself any longer. She’d need to leave soon. She’d done what she’d come here to do, but she’d be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t enjoying their discussion.

After hearing it for the hundredth time, Sasaki finally found an opening to ask, “I don’t understand how you’re using the term _‘maria’_. I thought at first it was only for kagune, but you’re using it for kakuhou as well?”

“Ah, so kakuhou is inside, right?” she touched her own shoulder with her index finger.

Sasaki nodded, “The organ, yes.”

“Yeah. In English, we have only one word, _maria_ , for kagune and kakuja and the other one-kakuhou. It’s seen as all the same thing.”

That sounded confusing, but he imagined that it might work depending on the context of the sentence. “Why _‘maria’_?” It was common enough that he knew it to be a name of some sort.

“Maria is from the name, “Mary”, like the Virgin Mary. Have you read the Bible?” she was tying her eyepatch back on now.

“I’ve read excerpts.” Not religiously. He’d studied it in world literature class at Kamii.

“Well, _that_ Mary. The term is used because . . . in the West, the maria is thought of as an extension of your mother’s will. It protects you, provides for you, and it also is made up of the RC Cells which are used to heal you as well.” Her expression was thoughtful and her eye fell somewhere near the ceiling. It was then that Haise noticed that she was so often looking _up_.

“I don’t like that,” came Kaneki’s own blunt response.

She looked him in the eyes, curious, “Why? I think . . . it’s kind of pretty. The thought anyway . . .”

“My kakuhou was transplanted.” It would mean that Kamishiro Rize was his mother. What a sick joke.

**To live carefree or commit actions without thought is to lose one’s soul.**

Anna considered that a moment, but didn’t really understand the significance. It was true that the idea the West clung to was _pretty_ , but it wasn’t very _realistic_. Even human mothers abandoned and left their children to die.

Sasaki took a deep breath and released it, realizing he’d completely relaxed in her presence, but unsure if it had been the right thing to do, “I’ve never talked to anyone at length about these things before.”

“Well, it’s important. You should. I mean . . . I guess I’m not one to talk, since I haven’t really, either, but-I can’t really meet you again like this, but we could text or something- maybe.”

“Why?” he took a sip of wine, but his eyes never left her.

“Hide . . . like-well- he doesn’t want me to meet you,” she admitted with a shrug as if his concern had no foundation what so ever.

Sasaki frowned, “Hide doesn’t know you’re here?”

“No. He-“

Sasaki set down the glass, and his demeanor changed slightly, his defenses going back up suddenly, “So he _doesn’t_ trust you?”

“No, he does. He does. You’re just . . . important,” she said the last part quietly as if she were spilling some sort of secret, and after meeting his eyes briefly, she crossed her arms and looked away again.

“What does that mean?”

“I’m just not going to answer that,” she responded flatly.

Before Sasaki could process what he was feeling, he began laughing, and after a moment, Anna laughed as well though mostly out of relief than anything else.

When the two of them had calmed down, Anna picked up her nearly empty glass again, “Just be careful, okay?”

“Hmm?” Kaneki was certain that the wine had taken its affect by now.

“He’s really fucking ambiguous at times. Just, do it the _right_ way, okay?”

“He?” It was getting more difficult to follow her speech, and he wasn’t sure if it was her fault or his own.

“The author. Rono. Just be careful, you know?” She clarified before walking out of the kitchen.

“You said that twice.”

She finished her wine and set the glass on the bar between the kitchen and dining room, “Just, don’t be an idiot.”

Haise narrowed his eyes in annoyance. He was by no means an _idiot_ , but somehow, he couldn’t take the insult seriously, either.

When the American saw his expression change, she actually smiled, “I should get back.”

“Does Hide fight?”

“He can. I mean, he-like- carries weapons on him,” she responded in a neutral tone as she remembered all the times he’d used them. She’d leave the part out about his fancy tricks. She was certain he carried his quinque pistols around just to _look_ cool.

Sasaki’s eyes found the floor, but he wasn’t studying the wood beneath him; instead his mind was miles away. _Hide, you fight? You risk your life?_ Sasaki didn’t even want to imagine what that looked like. Just the idea of someone attacking Hide was terrifying.

She noticed how Kaneki fell inside himself often at the mention of Hide. _That can’t be healthy._ Feeling somewhere between annoyed and sorry for him, she offered, “But he doesn’t always have to, you know? Most of his battles are in the board room.”

Sasaki hadn’t looked up, but he nodded. He wanted to know what Hide’s life was like now. He wanted to know everything, and- he wanted to be a part of it. What would it take? What would have to change? How could he convince Hide that he could help and could be trusted and-

“It won’t be this way forever, I think . . .” and with that, Anna turned her back to him. After sliding her shoes back on, she waved clumsily before opening the front door, stepping out, and then closing the door behind her.

Maybe, she wasn’t so bad.

**A perfect victory is difficult to obtain, but it is even more difficult to lose well.***

He made his way over to the front door and when he locked the door behind her and turned back to the kitchen to get rid of the wine, he saw Rize waiting for him on a bar stool. She was wearing that same dress with the ruffle sleeves he had last seen her in the day his life had changed forever. Her smooth, violet hair hung around her neck and down her chest as she turned her body towards him. The wine glass Anna had been drinking from was sitting empty beside her and she tapped the glass with her perfectly manicured fingernails, “One more, please!” she laughed in spite of herself as she appeared to watch Kaneki’s every move behind the frames of her glasses.

When Kaneki finally tore his eyes away from her, he walked over and picked up the glass to wash in the sink. He’d just ignore Rize again like he’d done last time, and she would go away. It was simple.

“Kaneki-kun, _you’re not any fun anymore_.” And the way her voice was sour, like she was pouting, only caused chills down his back. He’d never heard her use that tone when she’d been alive, yet here she was now, a hallucination, able to perform expressions across her face he’d never even seen. “I only wanted a taste. It’s good, isn’t it?” He was at the sink and his back was turned to her, but somehow, he could still feel her there behind him. “What are you going to do, hmm? Are you going to let him fight alone with only that gaijin bitch to help him?” he felt her press into him and her arms wrapped around him, one over his left shoulder and the other around his waist. Her lips were dangerously close as she stood taller, still pressing into him, to whisper hot breath on his ear, “How lonely he must feel, too . . . I wonder, Kaneki-kun, just how he ended up working for these Doves? Some friend you are, abandoning him, leaving him to struggle alone, letting him-”

“ _Shut up!!”_ he looked down at his hands. The wine glass had _shattered_ all over the sink and counter and even the floor- his own hands bleeding from tiny shards inside his fingers and palms.

 “What the fuck, Sasaki?” Urie stared in annoyed disbelief at the sight. He’d come to the kitchen to refill his glass of water, but when he’d found his mentor lost in thought washing a _wine_ glass, his eyes had scanned the kitchen immediately. A wine bottle of nearly finished _thick red liquid_ was on the counter along with a second nearly empty wine glass, and before Urie could process what the coppery smell was, the other investigator had just _snapped_.

Sasaki looked down at his hands and began pulling the pieces out quickly and setting them on the counter, his wounds healing in seconds, “S-sorry.” Sasaki never looked up at his subordinate.

Rize was _gone_. He couldn’t even hear her anymore.

Urie watched him pick up the broken glass and made no move to help him. Instead of getting water, he just set his own mug on the counter and walked back upstairs. There had been _two_ wine glasses. Had someone visited the ghoul? Red wine? Blood wine? Had _another_ ghoul just been in the chateau?

Haise realized he was trembling as he picked up the glass. He had _seen_ Rize twice now- _heard_ her- _felt_ her-

_What the hell is wrong with me?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *These are direct quotes witten by Kouhei Kadono via Seiichi Kirima. All quotes in bold were inspired by the philosophies and beliefs of Seiichi Kirima. I just sort of mimicked his mind set and sprinkled in my limited understanding of the Tokyo Ghoul character if that makes sense.  
> Ah, everything in bold aside from Rize's words (in bold italics) are lines from the book that Anna gives Kaneki.
> 
> I would really love to hear feedback or even just your ideas. This is all obviously AU, but I tried really hard to make it sound plausible and worked on this chapter for a couple of weeks. Thank you in advance!
> 
> Also, I'm having to change a lot of the next chapter due to ch.39 of :re, so it might not be up right away, but I will have it up before the end of the week for sure.
> 
> Finally, who is this mysterious Rono? Rearrange the letters in his name.


	21. Knight's Plague- Dec 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter really meant a lot to me, and I re-wrote it about five times. Tsukiyama gets a lot of shit sometimes, and, I wanted, desperately, to be able to share with all of you the heart I know he has. He is insane, but he cares deeply. I hope I was able to do him justice. Thank you all for your patience.

The book he’d been given had been about more than ghouls or half ghouls; it had been about relationships, the world, emotions, the mind- It had covered so much in such a small text that Kaneki was still overwhelmed by it all. It seemed as if the author had written a guidebook on living life in general, not merely a study on ghouls or RC cells. He didn’t agree with all of it necessarily; he wasn’t so easily manipulated that he would change his way of life to match an unknown text and he saw value in drawing conclusions from his own experiences, but some of what had been written was impossible to argue, and some of what was discussed was, even though difficult to swallow, incredibly accurate to modern scientific findings. Sasaki wondered how recently it had been written as there didn’t seem to be an actual publisher, because much of the theory regarding the workings of the body that sounded like the ramblings of a religious zealot had actually been proven to be true in scientific findings as recent as last month.

The part he found particularly interesting and especially applicable to his current predicament was the section on _pain_. Motivated both by the desire to learn more about Hide and also to see if he really _could_ help Tsukiyama in some way, Kaneki had come to the conclusion that the only way he’d be able to meet with him and Hori would be through actually removing the anklet that kept him grounded like a ball and chain to the same places he frequented- work, home, and the occasional coffee shop.

Arima couldn’t know.

No, of course he couldn’t just mention to Arima that he had an errand to run in the 20th Ward at midnight. No, of course he couldn’t just drop Arima a line that he was meeting with some old friends for a chat, because he wanted to reminisce about old times. And no, of course he couldn’t just casually leave a message on Arima’s voicemail that he was reuniting with the _Gourmet_ , one of the most feared and sought after ghouls in Tokyo, because they actually used to be _allies_ and he wanted to _aid_ in his recovery in some way.

The only way he’d be able to actually make it to the Tsukiyama mansion would be if he removed the device around his right ankle, and the only way it would come off was through removing his _ankle_ first, or by extension- _his whole foot_. He’d need to sever his right foot from his leg and pull it off that way. It hadn’t really been a thought, much less a possibility until his torture with Doumeki. Before his last stay at Cochlea, he didn’t know what would become of him if he lost an arm or what would happen if his leg was blown off from an attack of some sort. He never would have guessed that with the right amount of _nutrients_ , he’d turn out to be a fucking starfish. Still, it had taken one to two days for his limbs to grow back before. He didn’t have work tomorrow and Urie took no interest in coming to speak to him for any reason, so he had at least allowed himself room for _error_.

Sasaki hadn’t jumped at severing his right foot from his leg as his first option. He had, of course, also considered simply removing the anklet itself. It was _impossible_. If he tampered with the anklet in any way- tried to break it or take it apart- it’d inject enough RC suppressant to paralyze him _completely_ \- likely even slowing his heart rate.

He’d been that weak before. He couldn’t remember it well, but when he had been in the hospital recovering from the injuries Arima had bestowed upon him in V14, he could remember being so hungry and weak that he’d literally eaten out of someone’s hand like a common house pet. It had also happened at one point during his recovery. He’d been particularly stubborn on one occasion while living with Arima and had refused to eat; he didn’t know, back then, what the consequences would be, and he’d felt desperate to at least _feel_ human in some way. When his punishment had been his first experience with RC bullets, he had been too weak, once again, to even lift his head. Feeling pain from an injury was one thing, but being _paralyzed_ was another. Being _helpless_ was something he couldn’t stand to feel. What’s more, if he tampered with it and set it off, it’d alert Arima immediately. Then, he’d most certainly be punished in ways he didn’t even want to imagine.

If Sasaki couldn’t remove the anklet, he’d have to remove the ankle itself. He’d need to cut just above it and then slide the anklet off. He’d leave the tracking device there in his room while he was out, so that Arima would think him home, and then when he returned he- well, he’d cross that bridge when he came to it.

Currently, he was sitting on the floor of his shower facing the drain beside the tub. An open package of food sat beside him with his quinque knife in his right hand and a tourniquet in his left. As he went to work securing the tourniquet above his right ankle, pulling the strap tight with his teeth to keep from biting his tongue, he mentally reviewed what he’d read.

**Pain is in context, and when seen as beneficial rather than injurious, pain can be both gratifying and liberating.**

What he’d need to do was think of the pain as having some kind of long-term reward while simultaneously comparing it to what he’d been through in the past. So, in a way, he’d have to think of this experience as a means to an end by first placing himself inside a memory wherein his pain was at its absolute _worst_ ; that would make the pain that followed, severing his own foot, feel far less intense than whatever past trauma he focused on.

He pressed the quinque knife gently against his skin and leaned back against the tiled wall, closing his eyes as he mentally reached for _context_. If he could somehow place himself mentally in a _severe_ pain, then cutting off his own foot would only be a _moderate_ pain. Science had proven this theory to work, but was it actually possible in practice? If humans were capable of healing certain illnesses simply out of their own beliefs and power of will, then he could believe or will himself into pain, _right_?

Kaneki took a deep breath. This was more than a little insane, but it was worth a shot. 

His most painful memory . . .

His lesson from Anna in the training room had been painful. His last stay in Cochlea had been agonizing- more-so mentally than physically, however. He’d been on RC suppressants for most of it. Just not _feeling_ and not _seeing_ his hands and feet had been rather harrowing. The inciting incident of this whole mess that was now his life had also been gruesome- having been impaled by Rize. Yamori’s torture. That, again, was a mix of both physical and mental torture. The repetition and his complete lack of power had lead him to his breaking point. But-

_V14._

Kaneki’s eyes throbbed at the memory, now freshly surfaced in his mind. Right after he’d seen Hide and- Right after among all of those corpses-

_Arima-san._

Death itself. A pain so deep that it could no longer be processed with the mind. Only the body could think- could experience- could react.

_The day I died . . . You were there._

Sasaki squinted his eyes tightly shut, the pain behind them suddenly intense as he dug deeper into the memory.

What could he hear? _Lightening. Footsteps. The voice of God._

What could he taste? _Blood._

What could he smell? _Death._

What could he see? _Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing._

What could he feel? _Pain._  
  
Pain.  
  
Pain.  
  
Pain.

“Ahhhhhhh-” tears spilled suddenly from his eyes and he bit so tightly on the strap of the tourniquet that his teeth threatened the strength of the flat woven rope. He hunched over, curling inside himself as he attempted to remember everything in detail- the fight, the words exchanged, the feeling of helplessness- realizing he was nothing in the eyes of God-

With all of his strength behind it, he pressed the quinque knife down, sawing back and forth only twice at the bone, and then- with a final press- he felt the knife hit the tile below.

His hands trembled as his vision blurred, his whole body stiff with shock aside from the subtle trembling of his bloodied hands. With a blink, the tears fell to the floor.

_I’m so fucked up. I’m so fucked up. I’m so fucked up._

He stared down at his detached foot and watched, eyes wide while the tears continued to spill forth, as the muscle and sinew began to snake slowly back together like threads being woven into a tapestry.

_I’m already a monster. Already._

And the sight before him just encouraged more tears to fall. No human could accomplish this. No ghoul. He was neither of these things. A kakuja?

_A monster._

His eyes went wide in terror. His foot might actually _reattach_ ; it might actually _heal_ , and if he didn’t get the tracking device off immediately the pain would all be for naught. Still trembling, Kaneki reached over to his foot, whimpered as he lifted it unnaturally from the tile with his right hand and pulled the anklet away with his left. The threads dissipated briefly before they reached once more from his severed foot to his leg and vice versa. He placed the foot beside his gaping wound, and watched, horrified, as the muscles and bones reached to be whole again. 

_How is this real? How can this be real?_

The tears were still falling, and it still felt painful, but more than anything, he was shocked. This wasn’t something that should be allowed to happen. Doumeki had turned him into what-

_Mom, I’m so fucked up. I’m so fucked up, Hide. You can’t-_

His blurred vision fell to the open package of meat beside him. Carefully, he set down the anklet behind it. The likelihood of the food helping the process along was high. Instead of reaching for the food itself, he picked up the open package. Thinking only of being rid of the pain, he brought the package up to his mouth and sunk his teeth into its contents, blood spilling immediately in thin rivers out the sides of his mouth and down his hand. He chewed quickly, ignoring the blood on his lips, chin, and cheeks. When he bent his head down to eat more, his face sunk deeper to pull at the raw muscle, his nose stained red with blood in the process. As he chewed, he noticed the pain seemed to be lessening. He couldn’t tell if it was because of the delicious aroma of the meat or if it was actually healing faster. In the privacy of his bathroom, he could close his eyes and relish in the sweet flavor of-

“Kaneki-kun, I’m _so_ proud of you.” The Binge-Eater was sitting inside the tub, leaning over the edge with one arm dangling lazily on the shower floor while her head rested on its side in the pillow provided by the bent elbow of her other arm and her eyes trained on him while he ate. Using her index and middle finger, she walked her hand over to the place where Kaneki’s right foot was slowly sewing itself back on. Rize kicked her index finger at the black toenail of his big toe and giggled, “Ah, _keep eating Kaneki-kun_.  I want to see it work faster.”

She laughed.

Their eyes met and he dropped the food immediately, blood spilling from the package and snaking in rivers between the tiles to the drain in the corner.

“ _Auu_ , _you made a mess._ ” She was pouting again, and Kaneki tried not to scream as his eyes took in the image before him that looked and sounded and _felt_ so very real. This was the _third_ time. It was the third time in one week and-

“My dear, Kaneki-kun, you’re so strong _thanks to my blood_.” She smiled, her kakugan eyes gleaming back at him, “Look at your ankle, _ghoul_.”

His eyes fell down to look at his right ankle. He was _healed_. He felt the tears return, and this time, not having the strap of the tourniquet in his mouth, he actually emitted a sob. He was okay. He’d healed in minutes. When he blinked the tears away again, he noticed Rize was gone. Before giving it a second thought, he finished the meat from the package quickly, this time using his hands to eat.

_Rize? I’m so fucked up. I’m so fucked up . . . Rize._

<><><><><><><><><><><> 

“Here, Kanae, show him this.” Chie handed him an envelope.

Kanae looked from Chie to Kaneki and then back to Chie again, his brows furrowing in concern, “Little Mouse, you-”

“We’ve already been over this,” she met the young Rosewald’s eyes with such fierce determination that he went instantly silent. He would hold his tongue not because of what she asked or said, but because deep down, he knew she was _right_. This was their _last_ chance. This was Shuu’s _last_ chance. If this didn’t work, they’d have nothing left.

Kanae looked up from the envelope to Kaneki as if assessing the content’s validity. Kaneki met his eyes and took a deep breath. Seconds later, the young servant’s face twisted in disgust and he turned to face the tall door that lead to Shuu’s room. Sasaki released the breath he’d been holding and tried to see Kanae’s obvious hatred for him as merely his concern for Tsukiyama. He’d seen Kanae in the past, but they had never formerly met until a few minutes ago. He tried to see any act of aggression the ghoul made towards him in the past and likely anything he attempted now as simply him being protective of Tsukiyama.

The Rosewald left the door open a crack so that the other two waiting outside could hear.

“Is the photo really necessary, Hori?” Kaneki’s left hand found its way behind his neck to scratch there timidly. It was no secret what was inside the envelope. He was nervous without having a solid reason for it, and that just made him feel worse. He didn’t understand how sick Tsukiyama really was and why he somehow had such a big part in it. The whole situation was unsettling; in the past, he’d never really _understood_ the Gourmet, but this time with whatever was going on, he felt like he _should_.

He’d met Hori at the station nearest the Tsukiyama mansion, and she had walked him the rest of the way there. It felt decidedly good to be able to walk about without garnering too much attention. Sure, his white hair would always mark him as a suspicious person, but he wasn’t wearing his uniform now, just denim jeans and a cowl neck sweater. He’d be lying if he didn’t admit to the fact that having that anklet removed felt more freeing than anything in recent memory. No one could see him- not even Arima. He could go anywhere- do anything. Yet, he _still_ wanted to return _home_. Was it his time as Haise that kept him attached to the Q’s and working with the CCG, or did Kaneki, even after everything had come back to him, still feel some bond with them as well?

A quiet voice that sounded like it had crept out of the mouth of something small and fragile slowly wafted through the room and broke Sasaki from his thoughts, “Kanae, I don’t understand. This is . . . Kaneki?”

_That’s Tsukiyama?_

Kaneki didn’t hide his surprise from Hori, and his face contorted with several conflicting emotions. Hori’s eyes met his and then looked away. She said nothing, because nothing needed to be said. Everything could be _heard_ in that gentle and delicate voice alone. What mattered was whether or not he was listening.

Kanae answered evenly, “His name is Sasaki Haise. He works for the CCG.” And he sent a prayer out to whatever god was listening should any of them actually exist.

The voice no longer crawled, but slithered forth, “But he _is_ Kaneki, isn’t he? . . . He’s alive.”

“Yes.” Kanae was attempting to show no emotion either way. He was too conflicted. Bittersweet.

It hastened, “I have to see him!”

“Shuu-sama!” A rustling of sheets. Kanae caught him as he sat up suddenly and sat beside him to hold him up and keep him from falling back.

Finally, the voice lunged forth, “ _I have to go!_ ”

Kaneki’s eyes grew wide when he heard the complete _desperation_ in Tsukiyama’s voice. But when it was followed by a _thump_ , he wasn’t sure whether to run in or stay where he was.

“Shuu-sama!” Kanae knelt down and had him in his arms in under a second, “You’ll see him, but please try to calm down; you’re in no condition to-” Sasaki could _hear_ the expression on Kanae’s face. He could see the young ghoul biting his lower lip while tears struggled to stay inside his eyes.

Tsukiyama nodded once the heartache in his little servant’s eyes processed. He couldn’t burden Kanae further in this moment. “Tomorrow. We’ll see him tomorrow. Which ward is he in?” The Gourmet relaxed and accepted the other’s help, knowing very well the validation one could feel when assisting others in their time of need.

Kanae’s expression didn’t change as he lifted Shuu to sit back properly in the bed, but he did wipe away at the tears than never quite fell. “He’s a Ghoul Investigator, Shuu-sama. Don’t you understand what-”

The voice snipped back, not unkind, but certainly impatient, “Nevermind that. I’m asking which ward he works for.”

Hori watched Kaneki’s hands mold into fists. _Don’t you understand it yet?_

“The first.” The last Rosewald went to work moving the pillows together against the headboard so that Shuu could lean against them and sit up. He did this with Shuu leaning into his shoulder to steady him, and the sickly ghoul depended wholly on Kanae’s attempts at comfort.

“We’ll go then,” his haggard breathing told Kanae he was still holding on, and that was all that mattered in the end- even if the _reasons_ he was holding on were _all the wrong ones_.

It was obvious. It had never been any more obvious. This was something Kanae couldn’t fight. This was something that he couldn’t work against. It was something he could _never_ win against. Kaneki Ken governed every breath Tsukiyama Shuu took.

“You don’t have to.” One moment Sasaki had felt so confident in his actions, sure that entering the room _now_ meant helping the Gourmet, but the second his eyes actually fell on his former sword, he froze before ever reaching the bed halfway between Tsukiyama and the only exit.

“No! You can’t!” Kanae barked back at him, his composure crumbling when he saw that Kaneki had actually _entered_ Shuu’s room. He took a step back from his master, but didn’t let go of him, his hand still on his left shoulder. Another nail in the coffin.

“Kaneki,” Hori voiced a small protest for him to stop, certain that Shuu wouldn’t be able to handle this _just yet,_ but what did it matter?

“K-Kaneki?” Two hollow amethyst eyes flickered into light, wide, trembling, unblinking.

It was too late. Chie stepped inside and closed the door behind her. Kanae, hearing the unspoken words of his master, stepped away and let go.

“It’s me, Tsukiyama-san. It’s Kaneki.” And his legs were walking him closer despite the shock that overwhelmed him.

“Kaneki.” He breathed.

Tsukiyama sat up using willpower alone and reached for the white-haired ghoul in front of him. “Kaneki?” His long, thin fingers slid into his cerulean hair and he pulled the hair from his face as if the sight of the half ghoul alone was breathing new life into him and slowly repairing his damaged ego.

Kaneki sat down on the edge of the bed, and took the other’s hand in both of his. “Tsukiyama-san . . .” His eyes couldn’t look away. This was the Gourmet. The heir to the Tsukiyama family. His sword.

And he was damaged. Dying. Desperate.

Tsukiyama’s tears did not tread forth timidly; they spilled in sudden streams down his face as he spoke, “You’re _alive_. Mon cher, you’re really alive.” The trembling digits of his hand gripped weakly around Kaneki’s hand and his free hand attempted to cover them, “Comme c’est beau.”

“I am.”

“You’re alive, Kaneki-kun. I-We, we- I can be your sword again.” He moved his right hand was over his heart, and his chest leaned forward. It was the best he could do in his condition, but as soon as Kaneki recognized the gesture for what it was, he placed his hands on Shuu’s shoulders and gently lifted him up. He felt so small and weak, and it was terrifying, because this was Tukiyama Shuu. This was the Gourmet. This man had an ego so big that it was only surpassed by his appetite.

No, this man had neither of those things. This man was none of those things. But he also wasn’t dead- not yet. There was something still there- something new- something Kaneki couldn’t recall ever seeing before.

The half ghoul couldn’t pull his eyes away from the hollow violet hues that were scratching at the surface of life, “ _No._ ”

Without missing a beat, Tsukiyama went on, “I can, and we can be _together_ again with Hinami-chan and Banjou and the others and- possibilities illimites!”

Kaneki couldn’t look away from the decimated state the ghoul’s body was in – thin- starving- sick, “ _No._ ”

“Kaneki, but weren’t you happy there with us? Let’s go back to-”

“No, Tsukiyama, I _can’t_.” and he was thoughtful as he recalled their time in the condo. It had actually been a rather dark period of his life. He felt happiness at times, or at least, something like it, but only when the others were around him. He loved teaching Banjou to read. He loved doing the same with Hinami. And he played cards with all of them. Tsukiyama, too. He’d grown to enjoy his presence over time. They’d spar. Tsukiyama would entertain with his dramatics. Hinami would laugh. Banjou would tease. There was happiness there, however fragile. It had been a sort of life, or something like it- however brief. He’d been so broken then, but he would have . . . he would have been much worse without them- all of them _\- including_ Tsukiyama.

“Why can’t you?” the desperate Gourmet pulled him from his thoughts, his eyes wild.

Sasaki answered with as little emotion attached as he could, “I’m a First Class ghoul investigator for the CCG. I can’t- _I can’t just walk away from that_ ,” and he shook his head as if to emphasize the impossibility. Of course he couldn’t. He hadn’t _yet_ , and he wasn’t going to. The Q’s _needed_ him. He had to be strong enough to _protect_ them. And Hide- he wanted to be useful to Hide, too. He was stronger than before, sure, but what would it mean when that day came- the inevitable day that his family would be taken from him? He had to be ready to face anyone- _even Akira_ \- _even Arima_ \- _any_ of them- _all at once even_ \- he had to protect the ones _like_ him- the ones that were forced to live in both worlds- the ones responsible for creating _one_.

“Well, why not?” The Gourmet didn’t understand, but the life that had glimmered in his eyes was already a fire blazing bright. He wouldn’t just let Kaneki _go_. From Kaneki’s expression, Tsukiyama understood only that it seemed Kaneki wanted to return to that time, but _something_ was holding him back. What could possibly be holding him back? Tsukiyama’s eyes studied the image before him. Kaneki looked like he was in pain, like there was something going on he was shouldering alone. Tsukiyama knew that look. He knew Kaneki well, maybe- no- yes- _better than he even knew himself_. Whatever was standing in Kaneki’s way of returning to that time they were happy together- he’d strike it down.

“I have another family now.”

Tsukiyama stared, doing his best to piece together the meaning of those five words. It wasn’t a _new_ family. It was _another_ one. He was both inferring that the aforementioned people, himself included, were once seen as his family, and this family had not been _replaced_ in his heart. He just had two now. Well, Tsukiyama could most certainly afford a condo for two families. That was easy enough. What was the problem?

“Quel soulagement, Kaneki-kun. That’s . . . . fine,” and finally, he _smiled_.

The notion that Tsukiyama was beautiful resurfaced. How, even in this state, could he appear angelic almost? “Tsukiyama-san?” He was no angel, but his smile was so purely sincere that Kaneki felt a blush color his face.

In merely a few minutes of being in Kaneki’s presence Tsukiyama appeared to recover so much of _himself_ , “I can _still_ be your sword. I said I’d never leave you. Do you remember? I meant it, mon coeur.”

Sasaki could feel his own heart pounding in his chest, but he was still somehow able to speak in a gentle firmness, “I work for the _CCG_ , Tsukiyama.”

“Yes, but-” The Gourmet grabbed for Kaneki’s hands once more.

Kaneki allowed Tsukiyama the intimacy knowing that the words he spoke would not be received well, “You understand what that means?”

“But you don’t want to, Kaneki-kun. _I_ know you. _I_ know you don’t want to be there; you’re there for them- this other family you have now. _You’d_ prefer to walk your own path. _Let me fight for you._ ”

Kanae is trying not to cry. This is really happening. Tsukiyama would give _everything_ up for Kaneki, even his own family. And he wasn’t any different. Could someone really find happiness like that- like this? The gripping pain the younger ghoul felt in his heart told him ‘ _No’_.

Disbelief flooded Kaneki in a torrent and his eyes widened once more in awe, “Tsukiyama-san . . . _you can’t mean what you’re saying._ ”

The Gourmet lifted his heavy head to look up and meet Kaneki’s gray eyes, “I must have made a mistake somewhere if I ever gave you room to doubt me.”

_This doesn’t make any sense. You’re just not feeling like yourself. This can’t be- for someone like me- you-_

“I don’t understand. Tsukiyama, you can’t-” and though he felt the other pull him closer, he didn’t process the intention.

“It’s too late for that, Kaneki-kun.” Haise suddenly realized how close he was- their faces centimeters away. How- how had he gotten so close? He pulled away quickly, blushing again, and Tsukiyama released his hands immediately, folding them together in his own lap in recognition of the fault in his actions.

Kaneki didn’t understand this _loyalty_ at all. He didn’t _expect_ it at all. Then again, he didn’t expect Tsukiyama to be holed up here like this for nearly three years after his supposed death, either. What did Tsukiyama _really_ think of him? Why couldn’t he make sense of it all?

The sickly ghoul attempted some amount of gesticulations, his voice scratching slightly from its sudden volume, “Bien sur! I do not look like much now. I’ll get better. I’ll get better. Then, you’ll see. I’ll become something you can’t look away from, Kaneki. Whatever you need of me. I’ll become indispensable!”

The half ghoul took a deep breath and as he released it, he smiled and asked of the other the impossible, “Stop being dramatic.” He relaxed, finally, at the sign of energy from the cerulean haired ghoul.

Tsukiyama paused briefly to marvel at the smile that graced Kaneki’s lips, but a second later, he laughed before saying, “I’ll _free you_ , Kaneki-kun.” But before he could speak further, he coughed hoarsely.

Kanae felt sick from the whole exchange, but Shuu’s last words, especially, extinguish any hope he had left. _Tsukiyama will get himself killed._

“You’ve been a dove all this time, mon cher? Whatever for?” Tsukiyama was only thoughtful but appeared in no way angry.

“Actually, I had amnesia,” Haise smiled gently, still unable to understand the Gourmet’s line of thought. It had been easier when his intention to eat him was all that motivated him. That wasn’t Tsukiyama’s motivation now, but knowing that, still, Kaneki couldn’t place what was.

“You forgot _moi_?” The ghoul noticed that Kaneki had relaxed and he attributed that to the good health he was showing.

Sasaki chuckled at the dramatics, relief flooding him with every sign of _life_ Tsukiyama emitted, “I forgot everything, actually. I go by Sasaki Haise now, like von Rosewald told you.”

“You will always be Kaneki-kun to me.”

“That’s fine,” and he felt his own smile grow wider, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Tsukiyama studied the half ghoul’s expressions. _He’s happy. He’s happy here with me. When he thought of where he is now, he looked so sad. He doesn’t want to be there with them- working for them. He’s a prisoner-somehow- he must be. I have to- I must-_ The Tsukiyama heir erupted into a coughing fit.

“Tsukiyama-san?” Kaneki put his hand on the other’s shoulder, concern painting his features.

“Ah, mon coeur, so sorry, just a bit-” the contact that Kaneki had initiated sent the Gourmet’s heart a flutter. _Be cool. Be cool._

Kaneki spoke with stern sincerity, “Please take care of yourself.”

And the words suddenly spun animation from the sickly ghoul, “I am the Gourmet! I’ll be better in no time at all- you’ll see!” and then the coughing returned.

Kanae came between the two immediately, his hands on Shuu’s shoulders and his back blocking the half ghoul from his master’s view, “You should leave. Shuu-sama needs his rest.”

Sasaki understood Kanae’s good intentions and stood, stepping silently away from the bed.

His lips parted briefly as he watched Kanae rearrange the pillows to lie Tsukiyama down once more, the Gourmet reaching for him in the process, “K-Kaneki?”

“Yes?” He didn’t move closer.

“ _I’m so happy you’re alive._ ”

Haise blushed deeply, because he was not expecting just how _genuine_ the emotion pouring from Tsukiyama’s eyes would be- would _ever_ be. How could one person live every day with such _intensity_? There were no words Kaneki could think to say, so in response, he only smiled. It seemed to be enough as the ghoul closed his eyes.

 “Leave him in peace . . .” Kanae seethed as Tsukiyama reached over to pet Kanae gently on his head to reassure him.

Tsukiyama, eyes still closed, listened to Kaneki’s footsteps as he walked out of the bedroom.

_Soon, Kaneki. You won’t have to suffer._

Chie was waiting by the door and before Kaneki said a word, she opened it and walked ahead of the half ghoul to speak with him in the hallway, closing the door when they both exited.

“What’s his problem?” Kaneki gestured back to Kanae inside.

Chie’s tone was very matter-of-fact, “He has . . . had it rough since Tsukiyama became ill.”

Sasaki needed to affirm, “How long? Has it been since-” he didn’t want to say it.

So, Chie said it for him, “Yeah, since he saw you last.”

“I can’t believe that was really him.” _He was so different- so changed- so weak._

 “Obviously, it happened over time,” and Kaneki was getting the idea that Hori didn’t actually want to discuss it. Something was _off_. Was she not happy with the results of his visit?

“What else can I do?”

“Nothing, really,” and Hori wouldn’t look at him.

“I’ll visit again,” Sasaki insisted steadily.

Chie's expression was blank, “Yeah, I mean, that’d be good, but . . .”

Kaneki was immediately on the defense, confused by her lack of enthusiasm, “It’s not like I can control it. I can’t keep him from-”

“You can’t control it, no, but you could be . . . -eh, nevermind; I just want my model back,” and when their eyes met, Kaneki’s mouth fell open slightly; he’d never seen Chie look genuinely affected by something ever before, and he had certainly never seen that expression on her face directedtowards _anyone_.

The half ghoul was sure he didn’t deserve this, “What the hell do you want me to do?”

“You just don’t _get it_ , Kaneki. We’ve been trying to figure that out the last two and a half years. _You_ will probably just get him killed.”

“ _Hori_ ,” he nearly growled. No, he wouldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t. His tone softened, “ _Trust me._ Please, just trust me.”

She wanted to say it wasn’t all about him; it wasn’t as if he could just ride in here as Shuu’s savior and change everything. She wanted to say that, but she didn’t, because she knew she was _wrong_.

Kaneki Ken was Tsukiyama Shuu’s whole world.

“None of us can control what he does from now on.” She honestly liked it best that way, because that’s what made Tsukiyama interesting and radiant and dear, but _not_ if it meant Shuu would be running towards his own death. Her tone returned to her typical lgiht-hearted emptiness and voiced a silent apology in her verbal threat, “You’re not responsible, but _you can’t ignore it, either_ \- got it?”

“I’ll do everything I can . . .” and he honestly meant that.

“Just don't fuck this up; that's all I ask, Kankei” Her bright, smiling eyes never left his as she handed him a large manila envelope. It gave him a chill.

“Yeah.” He took the envelope and drew it into his chest, “. . . This is everything?” It was heavy, clearly containing several documents, but he didn’t open it. He trusted Chie. _I’m going to find out, Hide. I’m going to find out why you refuse to see me. What you’ve been doing all this time . . . What ‘hell’ has been like._

She nodded, tone typically critical once more, “Everything I could get, yeah.”

“You’re still here?” If looks could kill, Kanae would have just taken Kaneki’s 9th life with the look he was currently giving him. His question followed some German under his breath, but it hadn’t been loud enough for Kaneki to hear it not that he would have been able to understand it.

“I was just leaving.”

“I’ll see you out,” and with that, Kanae began down the hallway.

He would have protested, but he actually wasn’t sure where the exit was any longer. With a glance and a silent farewell to Chie, he followed after the young ghoul. When they reach the edge of the grounds, Kanae closes the gate between them.

The Rosewald’s eyes narrowed threateningly, “Don’t ever come back here, Kaneki Ken.”

“But-”

“If Shuu-sama wants to see you, he’ll come to you,” he scowled.

Sasaki shook his head but remained calm, “That’s even more dangerous than-”

“The Tsukiyama family is a proud and prestigious family able to live and prosper in the human world. Should Shuu-sama want to see you, I’ll bring him there myself, but _don’t you dare_ return here and put the rest of his family in jeopardy.” Kanae knew it would not be something Tsukiyama would want for those he cherished.

“Fine . . .” that made more sense, so Sasaki nodded in consent.

In the silence of the night, as he walked to the location on the map where Samurai had been hiding away, Sasaki felt hot tears fall down his face, unsure of what to make of what had just transpired. There was so much he didn’t know and so much he didn’t understand. There were things in Tsukiyama’s eyes he couldn’t name.

_You  . . . cared for me, Tsukiyama. All this time . . . you really cared for me._

Though the feeling wasn’t entirely foreign, and though he was able to recognize it much easier since his life as Sasaki Haise, it was still _warm_ , _distinct_ , and _precious_. Tsukiyama Shuu truly cared for him, and that feeling was something he could _cherish_.

<><><><><><><><><> 

The trains had stopped running and getting a taxi would mean leaving behind a trail. He’d need to find Samurai’s location and take everything he could and return home within the next three hours just to be safe.

“Yasuhisa Kurona-san? Hello? Pardon my intrusion.” He walked inside the small five tatami mat apartment and shut the door behind him and waited. Silence. There was a musty smell, like the windows were always open, even in the rain and snow.

“Yasuhisa-san?” he sniffed the air again. A female had certainly been here- lived here, but-but he couldn’t smell her now. Still attempting to be as careful and polite as possible, Haise continued to speak to the darkness, “I’m going to turn the light on.”

He flipped the switch and took in everything at once, processing the scene. There was no furniture aside from two futons in the middle of the floor and a desk lamp between them. However, the room was by no means empty. The walls were covered- top to bottom, or at least as high as Amon’s arms could likely reach, with the Samurai’s research.

“A warning would have been nice, Amon,” Kaneki turned to close and lock the door behind him before walking into the middle of the room. He was the _only_ person here but _hundreds_ of faces from photos and newspaper clippings alike were staring back at him.

He pulled out his own camera and began snapping photos. He had a backpack he could fill with the clippings, the photos, the evidence, but as far as the connections made between all of them- just how many cheesy cop shows had Amon watched? It was incredibly disadvantageous to cover his findings in red tape and sticky notes.

As he began to pull the research from the wall, he did his best not to be distracted. Just how many of these ghouls were still out there in Tokyo over-eating and killing for the sport- nevermind the one’s he’d actually tracked _across Japan itself_? And how many of these humans were still alive actively killing others for seemingly no real purpose at all other than to feed their own sick desires?

As he collected the work Koutarou had haphazardly organized on the walls, he realized there was a pattern to the colored text on the sticky notes. Nothing was written in black ink- only red and blue. Anything written in red was in reference to ghouls. Anything written in blue was in reference to humans.

The amount of blue text somehow overwhelmed the red text.

_This can’t be right?_

Another photo. Another sticky note. Another newspaper clipping.

He traced the blue text with his fingers.

Kaneki had never _killed_ a human before. As an investigator, he’d killed a _countless_ number of ghouls.

What did it really mean to treat them equally?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bomb is over as is my vacation. It may be quite some time before I update again, but in the mean time, I'd love to hear your thoughts over what you read during the bomb or even throughout the story so far. Please never hesitate to share any criticisms or ask any questions you may have either here in a comment or on tumblr. Thank you all for your support. I'm happy that I can write something that engages you.


	22. Christmas Eve- Dec 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, guys. I was going to upload the whole "Christmas" chapter, but I haven't finished it, so here is half. I'm very sorry for making you wait so long and it isn't even a completed chapter. I've been incredibly busy with work this year, and this story takes a lot out of me, so when I get home, I have trouble focusing on it.  
> Thank you all for your support. I hope it is not disappointing. I'm sure it is a little strange. Haha, please be kind to me. /praying hands

Kaneki had spent the entirety of the next day sorting through what he’d picked up from Amon Koutarou’s apartment. Needless to say, it had taken him from the time he’d woken up until now- 11:09pm to file away what he could in a small two drawer filing cabinet beside his desk. It would be stupid to post it all over the damn wall, especially if Shirazu, or any of the Q’s for that matter, happened to tread inside without notice.

There was value in graphically organizing the information, however, so instead, he had purchased a large white board to go in place of his banana poster. On it, he wrote important dates and times for meetings- typical things that could be seen in an investigator’s room. However, on the back side of the board, he’d put a map of Tokyo. On that map were several pinned tabs with numbers on them- some in red and some in blue. The numbers matched the file numbers he’d created for the research. After piecing together as much as he could, it looked like Amon had been following just over thirty people. Around twenty of those cases were written in blue. The rest were red. After he’d compiled the research, it had become painfully clear; Amon had been following more humans than ghouls. Even being a ghoul, it made so little sense to Haise. Humans assume the majority of homicide cases are ghouls. They have to eat, so one would think . . . So, even ghouls had misconceptions about ghouls?

Kaneki had decided to pursue case number three. Ghouls. A couple. The man would consistently seduce women in Kabukichou only for them to turn up missing later. They were never really talked about or discussed in the public eye. The _liquid exchange_ , as it was apparently called according to Amon’s investigation, was against the law in Japan but was also somehow protected by more than the many yakuza syndicates that benefitted from it. Many of the women that participated were even foreign- many coming from south Asian countries or Russia, in particular, to be exploited in the red light districts of Tokyo and Osaka. This was all happening right there in Shinjuku- a ten minute walk from the CCG headquarters. And it had gone on, without anyone investigating it, because it was a matter of international laws, crooked cops, and illegal yakuza operations that the Tokyo Met had turned a blind eye towards. Filed away under ‘necessary evils’, the laws written to protect people were being entirely overlooked so that the organizations in place that had written them could protect themselves. Backwards.

_This world is so fucking wrong._

Every Japanese person knew about the red light districts and who owned and operated them, but no one talked about it. Every person living there in Japan over the age of adolescence knew that prostitution was happening behind the closed doors of many of the hostess and host bars- never mind the kyabakuras and snack bars. And every adult with some amount of interest in learning of the underbelly of Tokyo was well aware that many of the men went on to lead lives of crime and many of the women either ended up the same, wrapped up in the equivalence of slavery from debts, or simply- dead.

_So wrong._

Amon’s investigation extended beyond the reach of the law. Justice, ethics- what was right and wrong- removing the enemies of this world- those things could not be bound by systems like the Tokyo Metropolitan Police or the CCG. Kaneki understood well what Amon was trying to do. 

Infiltrating the Yakuza was an easy way a ghoul could live their life, Sasaki supposed. It was a wonder that there was no ghoul Yakuza of some sort. It just went to show that it was a far greater sin to be born a ghoul than it was to willingly participate in a life of crime.

Sasaki, glasses on and bangs held back with a clip, sat at his desk with File #3 open with its contents laid out for him to see all at once. Amon had several pictures of the male ghoul and female ghoul together with dates beneath each one which established that they were a couple, since the other photos of the male ghoul were with different women each time- his victims. According to Koutarou’s research, the couple had started in Osaka and then moved to Tokyo a year ago. The male ghoul would work in a host bar a few months and as soon as he had raised any sort of suspicion, usually two months or six to seven victims in, he’d reinvent himself and move on to another bar. In a job dripping in deceit, he must have been rather impressive to continue jumping from place to place in Kabukichou.

Now, he just needed a plan.

<><><><><><><><><><> 

Maris Stella was the one who’d told her it was time. No, of course the cat couldn’t speak, but Akira Mado understood the words in her actions. Maris Stella wouldn’t comfort her any longer, wouldn’t sleep beside her at night, and wouldn’t even come when she was called as she did before as if hanging on Akira’s every word. Maris Stella was _disappointed_ in her.

Akira knew why.

The cat had standards and wouldn’t put up with an owner that so easily gave in to their own weaknesses. Akira was being weak. Akira had been running away. It was _only human_. It was only human to hate feeling pain, to hate the bitter taste it gave you, the haunting nightmares, the rigid frost and the gentle gray that settles over everything when you lose what gave you light, what gave you color, what gave you _love_.

She’d lost her father. She’d lost her friend. She’d lost her _partner_. For several months it had been only her and Maris Stella. In those months, she’d vowed to never reach for anything again. Let someone else feel betrayal. Let someone else feel _left behind_. Yet, _others had reached for her_. It was true, she’d gained so much back in that time, but as soon as Sasaki had regained his memories, she couldn’t help but feel like she had lost him, too. Sasaki Haise. After having decided that there was no point, after deciding to close herself off, after having decided that to love someone meant only to be _hurt_ and _abandoned_ \- which was even worse than merely being _alone_ \- Arima had come to her with a request.

_A mother? A friend? A partner?_

Akira stepped through the automatic doors of the ghoul prison, Cochlea, and noticed that when her heels clacked against the linoleum, it always sounded different here than it did anywhere else.

_Clack. Clack. Clack._

Quinque metal. The blood of ghouls themselves. The very walls of this place were poison to its inhabitants. And now, to _him_. She showed her ID and signed some paperwork.

“Yeah, it’ll be ready in ten minutes. B1 floor.”

She said nothing but sank her ID back into her bag and headed for the elevator. _It? He._ Her heart clenched. She had wanted to correct the guard, but had held her tongue. _It_ was a _him_ , and _he_ _didn’t deserve any of this._

_Clack. Clack. Clack._

That morning, Maris Stella had jumped up on her dresser and knocked down all of her photos in a silent procession of disgust.

She had a graduation photo with people from the academy. It was the only photo she had with both herself and Takizawa in it.

_Akira, if you act in spite, you don’t even deserve the happiness of memories._

A photo, from long ago, of her as a child with her mother and father had fallen next.

_Akira, if you can’t be strong, can you even call yourself a Mado?_

She had a photo of _him_. It was of poor quality since it was a selfie that had been taken with a phone on a night she could barely remember, and it was a little embarrassing to have it in a frame, but he was in it, and he looked _happy._ It was the only proof she had that he was ever _happy_.

_Akira, if you remain in denial, you won’t be remembered, either._

As Akira picked up each one, she was forced to face the truth. She loved her friends, her family, her partners- including Sasaki and the Q’s. She loved them desperately no matter how hard she tried to deny it- no matter how hard she tried to protect her own heart. She loved them in everything she did and said and in every decision she made- even in her rejection.

_Clack. Clack. Clack._

In the elevator, Akira pulled out a compact mirror and checked her makeup before placing it back in her bag, hearing it click against the mask she’d brought along with her.

It was easier to tell herself that Sasaki had changed. It was easier to tell herself that Kaneki Ken was the bad guy. He was the one who’d taken everything away. He was the one who had made her suffer, and with Sasaki regaining his memories, Sasaki had died, too. Sasaki Haise, the sweet and gentle person she’d called partner had died, once again, at the hands of Kaneki Ken.

It was a lie, but it made everything so much _easier_.

It was a lie, and Maris Stella knew it.

It was a lie, and Akira had to come to terms with the truth even if the truth made everything so much _harder_.

 When the elevator doors opened and she met with another guard, she specified the interrogation room without glass. He’d raised an eyebrow, but she met his skepticism with a cold stare. Amon Koutarou was not a monster. Just as Sasaki Haise-no, just as Kaneki Ken wasn’t, either. They were both human. Human.

_Clack. Clack. Clack._

The guard led her to the interrogation room that was a small square box with two chairs and handed her a remote for the shackles that her ex-partner would inevitably be wearing. When the guard left, she slipped on the finished wood mask she’d purchased to wear just for this occasion. Maybe it was armor. Maybe it was a joke. Maybe it was a compromise. Maybe it was a silent plea. Whatever it was, as soon as she tied the leather straps taught behind her head and beneath her braids, she pulled the compact mirror out once more and stared at her reflection briefly. The irises of her violet eyes could be clearly seen, but beyond that, she was just another heroine in some tragic play. When the mirror was placed above her head, the mask appeared to be smiling, the shadowed red lips turned upward with the narrow eyes glimmering from the pathetic white light provided by the lamp above. Bringing the mirror below her face, the mask appeared to be crying, the eyes drooping with the mouth open slightly as if crying in despair. Viewing her image straight on, she appeared to have no expression at all- blank- a woman- just that. In the end, this is what she was. She wasn’t only a mentor, an investigator, or a daughter. She was also this- a woman. She was a woman who played many parts. One who loved. One who felt pain. One who, through pretending day after day that she _was_ the _strong one_ , ended up _becoming strong herself_.

The door opened again, and she placed the mirror back in her purse and set it on the floor and relaxed.

Nearly three years had passed, but she was ready now. It was time. And if she wasn’t ready, she’d just keep telling herself she was until it became reality.

<><><><><><><><><> 

He had expected Kaneki.

He wasn’t ready for Akira. He held his breath as he dragged the shackles along the floor.

When he sat down in the chair, and the guard clicked the door closed, he released the breath he had been holding.

She was wearing a mask, onna-men, and simply the act of her putting it on spoke words to him that he knew she wasn’t ever going to voice aloud. His eyes traced the smooth wood, the fine strokes of paint that detailed the lips, the hair, the eyes. Her own violet irises peered back at him, and they looked so out of place with the blank Noh mask that held such soft composure. He saw nothing in the mask, but everything in those eyes. His own eyes pulled away and traced her contrasting blonde hair, the line of her neck, her shoulders, her chest, her hands that rested in her lap, her legs, which were in the same professional position as customary to that of anyone in the Japanese working world.

He looked up and his eyes focused on something above her. What could he possibly say? He couldn’t apologize. He couldn’t make any kind of excuse. There was no way in hell he could actually _explain_ anything. What was he supposed to do here? Had Eyepatch known she was coming? A warning would have been nice. No, it wouldn’t have mattered. What was he supposed to say? No, what did she _want_ him to say?

Akira’s eyes watched him and she felt something warm inside her light. He was clearly uncomfortable, at a loss; he was nervous, and it was evident from his body language. She’d seen him like this before. It was just like back then. Just like it.

Except now, he was in prison. Except now, he was a ghoul. Except now, three years had come between them.

When she stood up, he only straightened more. When she stepped closer, he put both hands on the arms of his chair as if to steady himself for the disruption of his personal space. And when she leaned forward, his eyes went wide as he sucked in his breath.

<><><><><><><><><> 

She leaned in and tilted her head, closed her eyes, and pressed the lips of her mask to his own soft lips. Akira could only feel the soft finished wood from the inside of the mask. She knew that, in this moment, he was feeling the same. There was warmth but nothing else. She pulled away, and she noticed that his eyes are focused on hers. Had he closed them or had they been open the whole time? She doesn’t understand if there is acceptance resting there or rejection, but he isn’t smiling.

She hadn’t planned on doing what she did, but it just seemed appropriate after she had harbored such feelings for so long. She did not blush. Her body was unaffected, her heartrate still the same. The action, the kiss, wasn’t for him, but for her, and from it, she felt . . . . _nothing at all_. Why?

She didn’t quite understand what was happening anymore. How could she stand before him like this, unable to feel a thing, when she had spent countless nights weeping, spent countless meals smiling at an invisible figure on the other side of the table, spent countless words whispered into the night air pleading for his safety, for his happiness, for him to just be _alive_? All of those emotions she’d released in the comfort of loneliness had amounted to what?

She’d never once given up.

She sat down again and resumed her proper posture, her mask still firm and in place.

Here he was. Alive.

And here she was. Numb.

It was too hard. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t feel anything sitting here in front of him. The man she loved had come back from the dead, and she couldn’t cry- she couldn’t even _speak_. Was this shock?

"Akira?" He finally spoke.

There was a long silence. They studied one another with their eyes and asked questions they’d never voice. He’d never answer, and, perhaps, neither would she.

Finally, she spoke. "You made things difficult back then." She hadn’t forgotten how he’d rejected her in the past. Maybe it was selfish to speak of it now, but she had to know, because her heart had been built and shattered, built and shattered, built and shattered- too many times.

"I'm sorry," he offered softly, because, in truth, he’d _wanted_ to give Akira more. At the time, there had been too many other things that were just more _important_. Was that really it? More _pressing_? More _urgent_? He knew her well enough that she’d consider these things nothing but excuses, so he said nothing beyond the apology. He knew that she deserved more than some shitty apology, but he didn’t have anything to give her anymore. He had nothing at all to offer her. He was a ghoul now. He could no longer have a future in which the two of them could-

She internally rolled her eyes. Amon was too gentle. "Are you going to tell me that after all of this time and after how much has changed, you're still just as stubborn?" and she felt a smile grace her lips inside the mask, a smile that he couldn’t see.

She had to hold back a gasp when he smiled himself. Perfect. How? How could he still produce a smile that melted the very core of her being- a smile that made her so weak and at the same time make her feel like the unspeakable was possible? Could she have happiness? Was it possible? His smile meant more than the passage of time. It meant more than her lacking attraction. It meant more than everything that had changed.

His smile was a world she wanted to live in forever- a world she wished she could wake up to every day of her life.

From his smile, she gathered the strength to go on, “So, _Samurai_? I would have thought that Ronin would have been appropriate,” she offered in a voice that was both confident and warm if not dripping in verbal irony.

When he said nothing, his expression remaining unchanged though his eyes chose to look away, she went on to clarify her meaning, “Who’s your master, then, Koutarou?”

“ . . .” He said nothing. No one had called him that in a very, very long time. He could see her expression through the mask. She was an incredible woman and always had been. He’d never really understand why she’d picked him.

“Or are you a ronin, no longer wanted by the CCG? You didn’t side with Aogiri, either?” she pressed. It was unclear if her questions were for personal reasons or if she was acting on behalf of the CCG at the moment. Maybe it was a little bit of both, and if it was, Amon found it incredibly appropriate of her character.

“Are you an onna bugeisha, then?” he raised an eyebrow, deciding to play along with her metaphors.

“Onna musha,” she corrected him with a hidden smirk. She was slowly feeling herself relax, and she closed her eyes. Maybe it was easier to recognize Amon as a disembodied voice than a chained up ghoul in the basement level of Cochlea.

“Ah- Gozen Tomoe?” he noticed her body language and relaxed himself, settling into a sort of peace as if the kiss had never happened, no, as if the last three years had never happened.

She crossed her ankles and gave a light snort at his comparison. Koutarou was never lacking for intelligence, but that could be said of many of the people she worked with within the CCG. She kept her eyes closed, somehow growing more comfortable behind the soft wood of the Noh mask, “Still, if that were true, we’d _both_ have masters. Our destiny would only be to fight alongside one another.”

Amon crossed his arms in front of his chest and the chains clinked together softly as a reminder of the things Akira refused to _see_ , “You still . . . want something else?” Despite how vague the question had been, he felt as though he’d said too much, but the words had escaped before he’d considered them. Mado’s presence was throwing him off-balance. He looked forward, almost, to this meeting’s end. His blood was boiling and he couldn’t place why she did this to him and why it was only her; it was only ever Akira Mado who confused him in this way.

“You think I’m so petty?” She opened her eyes then and met his. If she focused on his smile, she could do this. It was amazing that he could still look so kind after what he must have been through. Just what had he seen?

It had been three years. He’d rejected her. He’d left. He’d been labeled as dead. He’d become a ghoul even. He had to clarify, “Even _now_?” He knew they could never go back; things would never be the same as they were back then, so why was she saying these things? Why had she kissed him once more?

“Even now.” There was no hesitation there, and a familiar pride Akira hadn’t felt in some time was settling in the pit of her stomach. Maris Stella would certainly acknowledge her now.

Amon chose not to respond on the matter. “The name, _Samurai,_ was given to me; I didn’t choose it. I’ll admit that Ronin is more fitting,” he responded carefully. He was too confused by Akira’s acceptance to really work through his own personal feelings on the matter. Again, he didn’t understand her. He was fairly certain he never would, but it didn’t keep him from trying.

Akira noticed his lacking response to what she was really asking, but let it pass through her. “You know what Sasaki is trying to do for you?”

“Eyepatch?” Right, Sasaki Haise, “Yes. I’m aware.” But, did _she_ know of their rather symbiotic relationship? Did she have any idea how they were _mutually_ benefitting from one another?

Her smirk returned as she watched him. He had certainly relaxed around her, but something about him was growing colder, “And?” She was asking a lot more behind that one little word. What had Koutarou decided? Would he remain a ghoul? Would he return to the CCG? What would happen?

“ _It’s that or die_ ,” came his rather firm response. There was no feeling in it, and Akira assumed she understood why, though she recognized the possibility of being wrong, too. When she said nothing, he continued, “I agreed to his assistance,” he admitted, meeting her eyes briefly. He couldn’t seem to continue looking at them for more than a few seconds. Had they always looked back at him with such sincerity?

She finally spoke what was on her mind, “You can be human again.”

“No, _I can’t_ ,” was his harsh response.

“Koutarou, you-”

“You’re wrong. If that’s what you’re expecting, you need to let that go. I will never be human again. _I’m a ghoul_ , Akira.”

“Of course you are,” she smirked, her legs now crossed, her right elbow on her knee, and her chin resting in her hand, “Of course.” He’d always be human in her eyes. Sasaki was human, too. Both of them had met this misfortune of being transformed into something monstrous, but their souls were human. They were simply themselves. Becoming ghouls didn’t change that. Sasaki and Amon were both good people. Takizawa, too. Her heart clenched tightly as she remembered his screams, his laughter, his expression when he’d seen her-

_They were all still themselves._

If Koutarou would insist on this stubborn belief that he was different now, she’d let him for the time being, but over time, she’d show him. She’d show him that things hadn’t changed- not really. She’d seen it in his smile. Somehow, the person she cared for had survived, and somehow, she’d make sure he’d live on.

Amon Koutarou was equally as stubborn as he was kind; that would never change. Akira couldn’t help but find it annoying that it was that stubbornness to be kind that was actually causing her a world of pain.

She reached behind her head and untired the leather straps. Carefully, she removed the mask.

Finally, she shared her smile.

<><><><><><><><><><><> 

Searching each individual host club would take too long. There was only way to do this; he’d need to go to Kabukichou himself. He’d be able to take the train there, but not back. Since it was personal business and not field work, he wouldn’t bother with the car that said “CCG” on the side of it. He’d have to walk home, but that wouldn’t be terrible as long as no one noticed his bare feet. There was no way he could walk all the way home in heels.

If he even hoped of getting into the club, he’d need to be a woman- a rich one. Sasako could manage that.

“Good evening, Miss. Before you join our palace of princes, could you please share with me your name and number? We require, also, a valid photo ID if you would be so kind as to provide one.”

Kaneki took the job very seriously, and, having spent several months following Jason’s torture as little more than a stone statue in public, he found this whole charade rather simple to pull off. He pulled out the photo ID he’d had made for Sasako back months ago to get  into the previous bar, acting completely innocent over the fact that he was wearing the same clothes in the ID photo presently. He’d need to get something new tomorrow.

The host made a short face, likely noticing the clothing, but, to his credit, it lasted little more than a second. He was in the business of trading lies for money, so as long as the woman in front of him had money, then it didn’t really matter what she wore.

“Please join us this way. We have three princes available for courtship.”

Kaneki internally groaned. Yes, the man certainly had to be skilled in the art of acting if he could say these lines with such sincerity.

“Each of them wish to meet you, and from the three, you may-“

“I want Shun,” Haise’s voice wasn’t exactly high-pitched, but it wasn’t his normal voice, either. If anything, he sounded like himself but maybe younger. Sasako, for this purpose, was a woman of power, and portraying anything masculine just made her appear confident and seductive.

“Excuse me?”

The hall they had entered had been decorated with white-washed photos of the hosts in ornate picture frames with each one hanging on the wall under a spotlight. Sasaki had stopped at the one he recognized- the wolf in sheep’s clothing. In the photo his hair was a bleach blonde the color Hide’s used to be, but unlike Hide’s, it was spiked with gel in several directions.

“Miss Sasako, he is currently with-”

“I’ll wait.” Kaneki purposefully cut the man off.

“I’m sorry, Miss Sasako, but he’ll likely be with-”

“How much, then?” Kaneki relaxed on his heels and crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing in annoyance, blinking a few times because the false eyelashes were just a little bit itchy.

“Miss Sasako, please understand-”

Kaneki, knowing he was pushing his luck, but deciding to take the risk anyway, pulled open his snap purse and withdrew several bills from Sasako’s wallet, handing it to the man politely, but with an air of impatience, “I want Shun. I’ll wait, sure, but he sees me. Tonight.”

The man took the money quickly, folded it expertly between his fingers, and put it in his breast pocket. “I’ll lead you to the private booth, Miss Sasako. He’ll see you within the hour.”

“Good then.”

And so Kaneki waited in the private booth, nervously spraying perfume every few minutes that passed to cover his scent. He was only half, but if the ghoul he was pursuing was going to be close, then he’d likely recognize his scent as that of a ghoul as well. At least he had a female ghoul’s scent. For once, Rize’s scent would be working to his advantage.

“Miss Sasako?”

Sasaki stood and smiled under his false lashes, hoping his makeup job was working wonders with his cheeks, “You’re even more breath-taking than in your picture.” As a murderer, he would be.

“Sasako-san, it is I who should be impressed. You’re absolutely stunning. And you asked for me personally? To what do I owe such attention from such a-” Shun’s eyes graced Kaneki’s false bust and Sasako managed a smirk while Kaneki inwardly deadpanned, “-mature woman as yourself?”

“I saw your photo outside, and when I was able to read your profile- Ah, love at first _slight_?” Kaneki stepped closer to the ghoul, and, gathering all the confidence he could, placed a finger along Shun’s bottom lip and traced it, briefly, before pulling away.

Shun laughed, his smile appearing genuine despite the lies Sasaki knew he was telling, “Sophisticated, too? _And_ bold? Just my type.” The bleach blonde haired host took Sasaki’s wrist in his hand and placed a kiss in his palm.

Sasaki stiffened- the ghoul was working rather quickly in his seduction and Sasaki by no means expected it. Had he paid _too_ much? A champagne service was 70,000 Yen and even _that_ didn’t get you sex. He’d only paid 50,000 Yen. Maybe the guy’s ploy was being aggressive and forward? He played with women who enjoyed playing hard to get? Kaneki mentally screamed. No, he could do this. It was nothing. Shun’s free hand snaked around Sasaki’s waist and pressed into the fabric of his dress, pressing, firm, down his back, towards-

“ _Shun-kun_ ,” Kaneki looked up with him with a glare though his voice held something of a pout, “I want a drink.”

Shun let go with a happy smirk and turned towards the minibar for the private booth, “Of course. I’ll choose for you.”

Sasaki took a deep breath and released it slowly. He was by no means used to being touched, and he had no intention of continuing _that_ for his job, “I want what you’re drinking.” It should be blood, and if it wasn’t, then it should at least be the easiest thing for ghouls to stomach, because it was part of Shun’s job duties to drink _with_ his customers.

“Of course, but I’ll make it a surprise then,” and so the host went to work mixing some kind of drink much to Sasaki’s displeasure. He could only hope it wasn’t too strong and he’d be out of there within the next half hour.

“Tell me Sasako-san, what brought you here?” He was adding nice now to their highball glasses.

“I want a beast to play with,” Kaneki looked bored as he sat on the arm of the plush red chair. Of course, he wasn’t bored at all. He was inwardly panicking from the situation. He could take Shun if the ghoul caught on to him, sure, but that would mean his girlfriend would get away. He had to play it safe and wait to strike when he was actually invited back to their apartment.

The ghoul poured the pink colored drink into each glass evenly, “Oh? Not a puppy? Not a dog?”

“A beast,” Kaneki repeated, voice a bit deeper. He parted his lips slightly, and when he saw Shun look at him, he licked his upper lip along his teeth slowly.

“Then _I_ will be your beast, Sasako-san,” he walked over to Kaneki and handed the glass to him.

“Queen,” Kaneki smirked.

After a tsk, the host corrected himself, “ _Queen,_ ” and after a quick ‘ _kanpai_ ’ the two clinked their glasses together and took a sip of their respective drinks.

Sasaki tried not to gag right then and there. Awful. It was awful. Beneath his glass, he watched Shun carefully. He was an excellent actor. He even made the drink look tasty somehow. It was a wonder how some ghouls were able to do pass. Sasaki stood up as he took another sip in an attempt to hide his disgust. Gods, it was disgusting.

While he attempted to maintain his composure, he closed his eyes and set the glass down. A second later, he could hear Shun set down his own glass. Kaneki suddenly felt a hand on his ass and breath on his ear, and, forgetting where he was, pushed the man off of him instantly.

“Don’t touch me freely, _beast_ ,” he threated, eyes narrowed. His heartbeat had quickened from the contact, but he tried to ignore it. He had come here to accomplish only one thing. This guy wasn’t going to beat him at his own game.

Shun raised an eyebrow at Sasako’s reaction, “Oh, what’s the matter, my Queen? You don’t like it when I touch you-” and he moved close again, ready to pounce.

Kaneki grabbed his wrist with relexes too wuick for a spoiled rich girl, “No- you haven’t been given _permission_.” Sasaki mentally steeled himself as he pulled the other’s wrists behind his head and leaned into him slightly, fake chest pressing into the other man. He resumed his previous pout, _“_ Tell me why you work here, Shun-kun.”

The blonde looked pleased with Sasako’s behavior but pulled away from her, deciding to tease her, “Ah-ah- you can’t ask questions like that. You signed the agreement when walking in.”

Sasaki pretended to be annoyed and crossed his arms under his bra to push up his chest somewhat, “I want you. I’m a woman who is used to getting what she wants. Tomorrow. Christmas. Be my date.” Christmas was best shared with a partner, anyway, right?

“I’m afraid-”

“Be my date,” Sasaki repeated.

“I’ll be working,” Shun shrugged, his ego showing through and through.

“Then, I’ll be here,” the half-ghoul shot back.

He gave her a smirk and raised an eyebrow, “There will be a special party, my Queen. Invite only, you see?”

“Then _invite me_ ,” Kaneki all but growled.

Shun’s thin lips slid into a wet smile that made Kaneki feel even more disgusted than he did already, “What do I get in return?”

Judging by the smile, he figured Shun was hoping for one thing in particular. That was _good_ , actually. “I’ll give you permission to touch me. We both get what we want.” Maybe this would be his ticket back to Shun’s apartment- to be eaten- to be killed- to be _shared_ with his girlfriend?

“I like you,” and it appeared, at least to Kaneki, to be the most genuine thing the host had said all evening.

It was definitely getting _hotter_ in that stuffy private booth, “No, _say it properly_.”

“ _I want you_ , my Queen,” and his lips spread thin once more and Sasaki couldn’t help but be reminded of a snake.

Kaneki stayed focused, “Invitation?”

Shun smirked playfully and turned to fetch one. While gone, Sasaki mentally berated himself as he sat back in the plush chair. This was not as easy of a charade as Sasako had been before, and it was nothing like the façade he’d put on after Yamori’s torture. This was disgusting. So, why was his heart rate quickening? Ridiculous. Was it because he was enjoying hunting this ghoul? Or, was it because he was enjoying the attention? Kaneki felt himself blush as a rush of thoughts he didn’t ask for flooded his mind. So it was true that he’d never done anything like this in his life, but still- he was a guy- and a murderer- and he wasn’t even-

Shun returned and handed Sasako an envelope. After reading it briefly, Sasaki slipped it inside Sasako’s snap purse.

“Now, seduce me,” Sasako challenged while Kaneki wished he could just leave now that he had what he wanted. It wouldn’t make sense though. The club wouldn’t close for another half hour, and if he was going to be invited to the ghoul’s apartment, he needed to make himself memorable . . . _desirable_.

Shun crouched low to a kneeling position, and, without warning, ran his fingers up from Kaneki’s ankles, up his legs, to venture beneath Sasako’s skirt and-

Upon reflex, Kaneki kicked his foot up and hit the host in the chin, causing the ghoul to pull back suddenly in pain. “Ah-ah.” Sasaki didn’t move his index finger from side to side to gesture his correction of the host’s behavior; instead, he said everything with his eyes, looking up at the other male in annoyance as he crossed his legs again in the plush chair. He mentally spilled a string of curse words. What was wrong with the guy? He’d told him no touching! This was just-

Shun took the blow for what it was and only smiled like the beast that he was back up at Sasako. “I’ll behave, my Queen.”

Kaneki wished tomorrow would come faster. “ _Good._ ”

Remembering something he had read in a book once, he pressed the ball of his shoe down the other’s chest and between his legs, trying not to think of the bulge there as he applied pressure which only elicited a light moan from the host. “Make _me_ want _you_ , Shun-kun. Surely you can be more creative than _that_.” Truth be told, in that moment, Sasaki had no idea what he was doing, but he could pretend. He could act.

Kaneki was very good at acting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear, anaphora is like my favorite thing. Also, yes, I'm writing under the assumption that Kaneki is a virgin. /shrug  
> Comments/Feedback/Questions ridiculously appreciated!  
> I have no idea when the next chapter, part two of the Christmas chapter, will be up.  
> Work is life.


	23. Christmas Day- Dec 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this chapter doesn't make you feel a bit uncomfortable, I did it wrong. T-T Pretty please tell me what you thought~! There is a lot going on, and I'd love feedback if you thought any of it was off the mark-or on it-or-whatever- I cut out a scene where Hide talks about Kaneki's first Christmas without his mom, but I'll probably post it to tumblr at some point?  
> Thank you guys, so much, for your support! Thanks so much to kytyngurl2! :D  
> Oh, and it's over 12,000 words, so get a snack first- or maybe don't? I give up.  
> Oh, I forgot to say, the song referenced is Mika ft.Chiara- "Stardust". :D It makes me think of HideHaise. T-T

**_We will be closed the 29 th for _bonenkai _!_**  
**_Thank you for your business!_**  
**_-:r_** e S ** _taff_**

Kaneki read the sign a second time on the glass window of the door for the coffee shop and sighed. He didn’t think he’d be this disappointed, but he was. Not only were they closed, but no one was here, either. He wondered what Touka was doing now then. Did she have a date? No, surely not. Wait, was that fair? Sasaki shook his head, his white hair shaking side to side as he did so. Seeing his reflection in the glass of the door, he touched his ends. He’d need to cut his hair soon. Why wasn’t it growing back black again?

Remembering himself, he read the sign a third and final time. Bonenkai, then. He’d come back on the 29th.

As he walked away, he considered why he’d stopped by in the first place. He’d wanted to see _her_ , sure, but maybe he wanted her to convince him out of it, too. No, he _did_ want her to convince him out of it- call him a selfish idiot- _something_. He needed her to tell him the truth he already knew.

This was all a bad idea.

Sasaki put his hands in his pockets and headed for the station. He’d never been to Omotesando, but surely he could find something there to wear for the evening. Too bad this wasn’t anything he could involve the Quinx in; Saiko would have really enjoyed picking something out for Sasako.

He looked back, only once, at the shop front as he walked away.

_“You idiot! What you’re doing is crazy! Did you ever stop to think about how we would feel?!”_

He could hear her words without ever having to actually speak to her, but just like back then, he didn’t _listen_. He just walked away. He had a party to get ready for. No, it wasn’t just a party- a _feast_.

<><><><><><><><><> 

“I don’t like sharing you,” Sasaki crossed his legs again, covered this time in garnet colored stockings with gems near the ankles that were faceted enough to cause prisms on the wall and furniture of the club when the light hit them just right. No one in the room could ignore Sasako; her presence was felt _everywhere_. Haise had somehow managed to find a black halter dress that was modest enough that he could still wear the chest-defining bra he had but also had a cut out back that meant it wouldn’t be damaged should he need to use his rinkaku. The skirt was wide and flared in waves which distracted from his lacking hips, but, unfortunately, it was on the short side. It would serve its purpose for the evening anyway.

Blood stains wouldn’t show.

Shun was at Sasako’s side in a second with a sly smile and a drink in his hand, “Ah, my Queen, but it’s a party! Enjoy yourself!” He clearly was, and Sasaki had no idea how he was doing it with the many alcoholic drinks he was throwing back that neither looked nor smelled remotely like blood or coffee.  Being one of the more favored hosts, Shun currently had three clients, including Sasako, but it was very easy to see that she had the most money of the three as Sasaki had made an effort to purchase only from brand shops within Omotesando Hills. He’d never spent so much money in one day in his life, but all the better.

Shun was certainly taken with _her_ \- or Sasaki’s _wallet_ \- or _scent_? It was difficult to say. He just hoped the other hadn’t yet figured out that he was a ghoul. If he had, he wasn’t letting on. The same could be said for the fact that Sasaki was a male. It didn’t really bother Kaneki that he could pass for female so easily, but it was a bit on the surprising side that he could pass in front of other men and a group of nearly thirty women. Did he look that feminine in the face? Was his body so petite? Whatever, it was a godsend at the moment, so he’d take it.

“My only enjoyment is being _alone_ with _you_.” Kaneki shocked even himself with how _easy_ those words came. Maybe he was in the wrong profession. He stubbornly refused to look at Shun and instead stared daggers at the other women in the main room of the host club. None of them dared look back for more than a second.

“My Queen, really-” the host moved closer, his hand reaching up to move Sasako’s face so their eyes could meet.

Sasako slapped his hand away without so much as a glance. Still not facing him, Kaneki went on with a stern pout, “Don’t you want to _taste_ me?”

Shun paused for a second, “Of course, but-” It was only a second, but it was enough to tell Sasaki that the ghoul had understood.

Sasaki inwardly smiled at his own pun and finally looked at the host in the low lighting, leaning forward with hands planted on the plush booth below, “ _I want to taste you, too, Shun-kun._ ”

“Tell me,” he purred, entranced.

The night before, they had also used _words_. Since Shun was not allowed to make any sort of physical contact, he’d depended on his mouth to speak for his hands. Kaneki had never experienced anything like it, so it was certainly new. Of course, he’d never admit to a soul that the whole experience had actually been rather _exciting_. He was a little surprised by the end of it that he hadn’t even been affected by the fact that a man was speaking to him in such a way. Maybe it was because he’d been acting as Sasako? Well, it didn’t matter now.

Kaneki leaned in closer to whisper into Shun’s ear, pushing his fake breasts together as he did so, “Your teeth on my neck-” Kaneki breathed, “Your fingers inside my-“

“Shuuuuuun! Who is this woman?” a girl with candy pink hair that looked like she was all of Saiko’s age stood suddenly in-between Shun’s legs, “She’s being selfish. _I don’t like it._ Come pour the champagne for us!” She grabbed suddenly at the host’s hands and began obnoxiously pulling as hard as she could to get him to stand.

Sasako sat straight once more and crossed her arms underneath her chest as she narrowed her eyes at the woman. Kaneki wondered just how young she was; she was drunk and shameless enough to fall on her ass when Shun actually stood up.

“Mimi!”

Sasaki watched as the ghoul picked the girl up suddenly, bridal style, and spun her around until she was giggling.

_This lifestyle must be really fucking exhausting._

Sasaki crossed his legs again and resumed his prior position before Shun had joined him. He couldn’t take much more of this. He’d already had to finish a drink to avoid suspicion and it was creeping up on him fast. He wasn’t feeling tipsy, exactly, but he _was_ feeling sick. It was only eleven now. Maybe he could convince Shun to leave the party with him somehow?

When thirty minutes passed by and Sasako _still_ hadn’t gotten time alone with Shun, Kaneki realized he had one card left. He downed the drink he had and slammed it on the table loud enough to be heard over the music, but not enough to appear overly dramatic or haughty. He stood up, draped the strap of his snap purse on his shoulder, and began walking briskly towards the coat rack.

“Sasako?”

Despite the thumping music, he could hear Shun call for Sasako in confusion.

 _Good._ Kaneki couldn’t help but smile to himself as he put her velvet coat over himself and made for the hallway that led to the door.

“Sasako! My Queen- _don’t leave_!”

_Are most men really this awful towards women or is this guy just a special breed?_

Sasaki figured he wasn’t really seeing the pick of the litter here in Kabukichuo. Kaneki walked out into the night air without looking back and made his way to a main road to call a cab.

<><><><><><><><> 

Of course, Shun had stopped Sasako from leaving and had invited Sasako back to his apartment. And, of course, Kaneki agreed with a smirk as it was all part of the _plan_ in the first place. He was a bit surprised at how easy it had been, but he had to remind himself that for Shun and his lover, it wasn’t about sex in the slightest; he’d chosen Sasako as their next _meal_. As they walked towards the man’s apartment, the host kept leaning in and pulling Kaneki closer. Each time, Sasako would deftly maneuver out of his advances with a sly smile and plea of _patience_.

“Aren’t you concerned for ghouls out here this late at night?” Sasako whispered in his ear, hoping to see a telling reaction from the host.

He didn’t really get one. “It’s a bit crowded in this neighborhood, wouldn’t you say? I’m only a short walk away from the club. _You_ should be the one concerned, coming out alone like this at night.”

“Pepper spray,” Sasako smirked and gave a wink. It was such a joke that the Tokyo MPD actually recommended women carry the stuff. It was practically useless with the rate at which ghouls could recover. It would buy a human a minute tops to escape, and that would be if the ghoul wasn’t fast enough to dodge it in the first place.

Shun smiled, “Ah _, my Queen_ , you are don’t even need that. I’m sure your glare alone could pull a ghoul to his knees.”

Sasaki refrained from responding to that; he was sure that if he opened his mouth he would have just made some sort of inappropriate pun. Huh. Two nights in the red-light district, and he was already prepared to resort to vulgar puns akin to those used in satire, as many would say, the lowliest of comedic theater. If Akira could see him now. Without thinking, Sasaki scratched at his wrist. Did luck play so much a part in all of this?

When they arrived at Shun’s apartment, Kaneki could smell another ghoul on the other side of the door. He read the surname on the plate by the door and thought it odd- _Kabuto_. That’s when he realized _something was off_. Shun opened the door, and, despite the building not being the best in the area, the interior was rather nice from Kaneki’s perspective. Western birchwood furniture. Navy blue rugs over wooden floors. Ample lighting. He lived well. The interior of the apartment looked like something out of a Swedish furniture magazine. When Kaneki walked in, he remembered his charade and tapped his foot deliberately.

Shun seemed to understand, because as soon as he had his own shoes off, he was kneeling on the floor and lifting Sasako’s foot gently to undo the buckle on the stiletto and slide it off. As he did, his hand slid up from Sasako’s gem decorated ankle up to his calf. The ghoul appeared pleased that Sasako was so well toned, and Sasaki mentally cringed. He didn’t expect Shun to lean forward and place his lips to his still stocking covered shin, however, and when he placed a second and a third kiss, Sasaki felt a genuine blush rise to his cheeks. It was good that he’d actually taken the time to shave his legs, at least. This was getting rather intimate rather fast.

For something he was about to murder and eat, Shun was being particularly gentle and affectionate.

Kaneki felt a headache coming on. Was it from the drinks? Or something else? Something was definitely _not right_.

When Shun pulled his lips away, he repeated the action with Sasako’s other shoe and it only made Sasako blush more, but it did nothing to prepare Kaneki for Shun standing slowly, palms flat against the fabric of Sasako’s dress pressing into Kaneki’s hips, and slowly up his abs and around his bra. It took a second, but Sasaki remembered to look away as though the host’s hands _there_ had affected him. He had no idea what a woman felt when touched there, but he’d read enough novels to have some vague insight. Finally, Shun’s arms went over Kaneki’s shoulders, and pulled Sasaki forward for a kiss.

It was Kaneki’s second kiss, the first one being when he was twelve, and a girl in his class had surprised him with a confession and a kiss before he could even process, _‘meet me in the music room after school’_.

This kiss was very different.

Wet. Flavorful. Aggressive.

He also actually responded to this one. And he didn’t even pull away, at least, not until he _processed_ that he was actually _enjoying_ it.

Kaneki pressed hands into Shun’s chest to break them apart, and he surprised himself with how carnal his voice sounded when he whispered two simple words, “ _The couch._ ”

Shun smiled, apparently pleased that he’d finally gotten what he wanted.

Had it been that satisfying? Kaneki felt himself growing hotter by the second. He didn’t even know what he was doing, so why was Shun looking at him like _that_? Did he look at all women like that? Or just his prey?

The headache was getting worse. Why now of all times? Sasaki cracked his fingers. Shun didn’t seem to notice.

The host sat on the couch with his legs open, and pulled on Sasako’s hand to join him. Sasako straddled him, the skirt of her dress flaring around her, but Sasaki stayed up on his knees so that they weren’t actually touching at all. He leaned down and kissed Shun’s jaw.

Kaneki felt his heart quicken. He parted his lips and tasted the tender skin with his tongue. He’d never quite . . . _done_ anything like this before, but Sasako, she was _experienced_ , so he had to just-

“ _Ah-_ ” Shun’s lips were on his neck and Sasaki gasped unexpectedly at how _good_ his lips felt. Shun was so close, pulling him into his lap, and Sasaki felt light-headed as the headache worsened. Something was _very wrong._ He shouldn’t have downed that drink before storming out of the club. It was messing with his senses. He could only smell the _other women_ on Shun. Would his girlfriend show soon? She had to be only in the next room. And he couldn’t smell anything else; it was strange-just-

“ _Ah-!_ ” Shun groped at Sasako’s ass, and Sasaki gasped a second time. _Too close._

If he didn’t do something quick, he would be discovered and-

“Tori, _stop_!” the girlfriend had arrived, “-don’t you realize _he’s a_ -“

At the entrance of the other ghoul, Sasaki bit suddenly into Shun’s neck. Fighting two ghouls at once in that tiny apartment without being _heard_ was just impossible, so he bit and tore desperately at the flesh, but the second his teeth gnashed into the jugular and pulled away, that familiar scent rushing through his nostrils, he realized- _Shun was human_.

A sudden pain in his back. “Toriii!!” He could hear the ghoul scream as she attacked the bare and exposed portion of his back, but when he straightened and looked down at the _human_ beneath him, he saw that it was impossible for Shun to respond what with the blood spilling rivers down his suit and his body freezing in shock.

Amon Koutarou had been wrong. They weren’t _both_ ghouls. Still, he should have realized it himself. There were signs. He _never_ noticed if the man smelled like a ghoul, but he’d written it off as a hazard of his job- always smelling like alcohol and smoke and women and-

_The alcohol._

_Come to think of it, it’d be impossible for a ghoul to stomach as much as he drank. No, most humans would have had liver damage by now if that was the norm._

_Fuck. I can’t believe I-_

Kaneki’s eyes went wide and he released his kagune and flipped behind the couch with the very human blood pouring from his mouth, finding every crevice in his teeth, and painting his lips crimson; it was the same blood that was spilling mercilessly out of the severed arteries in Shun’s neck. He swallowed.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This is-_

“Tori! Tori! Tori!” the ghoul screamed for her soon to be departed lover and jumped into the air to attack Kaneki who was still behind the couch, tears spilling from black sclera eyes.

Sasaki only had time to react, and so he did . . . with a rinkaku tentacle through her chest. _Too easy._   The ghoul wasn’t a fighter. Everything was making sense now. Irreparable damage to the heart which had been taken entirely from her chest and hit the white wall of the apartment living room before sliding to the floor behind her, the female ghoul fell, tears still falling as she bled out onto the rug, blood spilling in rivers from the wound in her chest that was wide enough to see from one side of the room to the other. A hole in her chest. Haise could see it briefly before she fell, face down, into the blood below. Western birchwood furniture. Navy blue rugs over wooden floors. Ample lighting. They had lived well.

He watched the blood pool around her and slide effortlessly across the wooden floor.

He watched the blood pool from him, his now fallen body lying lifeless on the couch, fall effortlessly from his neck wound to the wooden floor.

He watched the two pools of blood meet, mix, and color the floor all around a red shade that spoke of passion and carnage.

In a matter of three minutes, he’d killed two people.

A ghoul.

A human.

He stood up and walked around the couch to take in the sight as his rinkaku dissipated. He stared at their faces. He stared at the damage he’d done. He stared at the blood. His headache was gone. He scratched at his wrist.

Kaneki had done what he’d come to do.

_I’m so fucked up._

Well, he hadn’t finished yet.

_I’m so fucked up. I’m so fucked up. I’m so fucked up._

Rize sat on the couch with Shun’s, no _Tori’s_ , head in her lap. “Come now, Kaneki-kun, are you really going to let it all go to waste?” She was combing her fingers through his platinum hair affectionately as the human ‘s blood spilled and stained her dress.

He spoke the words out loud, “I-I can’t,” recognizing her as _real_.

“Unn, but it’s sooo gooood. Besides, you’re doing this for a reason, right?” She picked up the body and grabbed at the man’s head by the chin, shaking it from side to side as she spoke allowing more blood to pour from his neck and splatter on her dress, the couch, the rug, and the wooden floor, “And you can’t leave evidence lying around, either, riiiiight? Come now, Kaneki-kun. _Don’t be obtuse._ Just eat.” Her eyes narrowed behind her glasses. She could smile with more than just her mouth.

“ _I can’t.”_ Haise didn’t recognize his own voice.

“ _You haven’t finished yet.”_ The devil had such a beautiful damning smile.

Sasaki crawled back onto the couch- _blank_.

The scent alone of Shun’s flesh was sweeter than anything he’d had in recent memory. In fact, he couldn’t place the last time he’d tasted fresh hu- _Arima._ That’s right. _And Hide._ But that was all. And that was brief, and he was _desperate_ , but now- Sasaki shut his eyes. _He could think straight._ He _wasn’t_ _desperate_ to eat. _He hadn’t lost his mind._ He opened them again and met Rize’s eyes. She reached a hand out to him and it rested on his shoulder. She pulled him closer, gently, never letting go of Shun, the corpse that was lying in her lap as if asleep. The scent filled him to the point that he could _taste_ Shun’s blood. When he was close enough, Rize’s hand, with her perfectly manicured fingernails, cupped his cheek gently before sliding to the back of his neck and pulling his lips closer, closer, closer, closer, closer-

Sasaki licked at the warm blood that was still spilling forth from the ruptured artery. He felt pressure on the back of his neck and he was forced to open his mouth wide to sink his teeth into exposed muscle.

“ _Ah-_ ” Rize elicited a sharp gasp as Kaneki began to eat.

As he ate, teeth tearing through skin, bones snapping and muscles ripping, he realized that _there was no going back_ from this. He’d never done _this_ \- not when he was with Anteiku, not after Yamori- even after he’d become a half-kakuja, and of course Haise had never committed this _sin_ , either. What did this make him now?

“Unn, Kaneki-kun, _please-_ ” He felt the binge-eater’s fingers slide beneath his wig to tug at his own white hair to press his mouth further, _further_ into the corpse of the human.

Crunch. Snap. Chew. Lick. Suck.

He dug his tongue further and further inside, easily ripping away the bones, the tendons and sinew and cartilage. When he came across something inedible, he’d rip it out with his teeth and hands and let it fall into the blood pond below.

“More, _more-_ ” he heard Rize pant as he continued to feast, his body on fire by now as his cells rejoiced at his consumption. He could feel his body temperature rise slightly as he ate, his RC cells running rapid to heal his damaged body from what little injury he had incurred in what couldn’t be called a fight for how brief it was- more like a slaughter- along with the after-effects of the alcohol he’d downed. He slid his tongue along muscle, enjoying both the texture and the taste-again-again-againagainagainagainagainagain-

“ _All of it-yes-keep going-_ ” and when he bit into the heart, he heard Rize gasp and felt Shun’s body _convulse_ , “ _Kaneki!”_

He tried to process thought, but his mind went blank.

He didn’t understand. He could eat forever and not feel full. It could taste _this_ wonderful. It could feel _this_ perfect. And _, it didn’t have to end_. He could eat. And eat. And eat. And keep eating, and _never_ have to _stop_.

“Again. More! _More-more-more-more-more-”_

Crunch. Snap. Chew. Lick. Suck.

He felt thin arms wrap around his waist from behind him, a warm chest press into his back, hot breath on his ear, “ _Perfect._ Just enjoy it. Death comes so quickly, Kaneki-kun, and you only live once. Why not indulge? _More. Kaneki-kun, eat more.”_

But there was nothing left.

Mouth, nose, cheeks, and chin covered in human blood, the half-ghoul could only laugh. Something felt so familiar about this situation and yet so new. He could never go back from this. He could never go back. He looked at his hands, stained with blood, and then he looked down at what remained of Shun. Fabric. Bones, a skull with empty eye sockets. Rize laughed. Or was it Kaneki? He’d eaten Shun’s eyes? Or had Rize? He couldn’t remember. How much time had passed? He still didn’t feel _full_. Would he ever feel full? Him? Rize? Haise? Ken? Rize? Sasako? Rize-Rize-Rize?

But he couldn’t ignore what he did feel.

_Content._

Rize didn’t let go of him. She didn’t say anything, either. Instead, she just held him possessively. He looked to his left. Of course, _she_ was still there- the female ghoul.

“ _The weak get eaten_ ,” he whispered in a daze. His body was so hot, and he felt fire pumping through his veins. He didn’t even feel full.

Rize finally spoke up again, “That’s right,” and she let go, but not before placing a kiss on the back of his neck. She could be affectionate? It was new, but Kaneki decided he liked it. It was much better that she was content and happy than yelling or tormenting him. “And _you_ , _my dear_ , are _strong_.”

Kaneki’s mismatched eyes, half-lidded, never strayed from the ghoul corpse. Careful not to stain the dress or the bejeweled garnet colored stockings, he crawled over to what was left of the female ghoul, avoiding the pool of blood and bones and leftovers entirely.

He needed no encouragement from Rize this time. Still, as he ate, he felt the pressure of a hand in the hair of his wig pressing his mouth further and further into the corpse. He couldn’t process anything beyond the fact that he’d grown to really enjoy the taste of ghouls somehow. He couldn’t process _why_. He couldn’t even process _what had changed_.

Crunch. Snap. Chew. Lick. Suck.

“ _Don’t think_ , Kaneki-kun. _Just eat._ ”

<><><><><><><><> 

“Ken-chan, it’s time for dinner!” Ken’s mother smiled brilliantly with her teeth and her eyes, spatula in hand and long purple hair tied back in a pony tail.

“Yes!” He was only six. He matched his mother’s smile with a blinding one of his own.

“Wash your hands, dear. When eating mother’s home-cooked meal, you don’t want to taint it!”

“Yes!” He ran to the kitchen sink and moved his tiny children’s plastic step ladder, decorated with Doraemon, so that he could reach the faucet and the soap.

He felt his mother hug him from behind and kiss his hair, “ _You’re such a good boy, Ken.”_

“Here you are, Ken-chan.” They sat down together. Ken loved his mother in her white dress. He loved her with her hair down so that the violet strands fell past her shoulders. He loved her with her red irises and black sclera eyes shining brightly as she smiled at him.

“Thank you for the meal!” It was enthusiastic; he was happy to eat together with his mother.

“Of course! I want Ken-chan to be healthy and grow up strong!” She clapped her hands together with a smile, and Ken smiled back with equal warmth and trust.

The small boy grabbed at the still bloody meat on his plate with his hands and brought it to his mouth and chewed, still smiling. Mother’s cooking was his favorite.

 

“Kaneki-kun? Don’t you like it?”

They were at Milky Way Café, the place they had gone together during their first date in Ikebukuro. They were sharing between them a couple’s parfait, decorated with ground, iced muscle, blood, and an eyeball on top where one would normally find a cookie or cream puff; sticking out the top instead of Pocky was a long thin bone that Kaneki couldn’t name but it curved in an arc- maybe a rib. Two long spoons were sticking out on either side. Very picturesque.

“I-well, I mean I-”

Rize put on her same act as back then, smiling sweetly, “You don’t have to be nervous, you know?”

“It’s just that, I didn’t think you’d-”

“Didn’t think I’d what?” She smiled with her eyes closed and turned her head to the side. Her legs were crossed at the ankle and swung back and forth beneath the table before stopping suddenly, “Oh! You didn’t think I’d ask for a second date?”

“Well, no.”

“But Kaneki-kun, I may as well if it means I get to taste you over and over again! _You’re such a treat!_ ” And she laughed with her whole body, her true colors showing through.

Kaneki turned to look at his reflection in the window. There was a gaping wound in his chest and he realized whose eyeball was in the parfait. He screamed.

 

“Rize.”

“Yes, Kaneki-kun?”

“You’re doing it again.” They were sinking inside one another.

“Oh! Whoops!” and she laughed, “I can’t help myself? We smell so alike, you and I.”

Kaneki pulled away from her, and they became two separate people once more.

She grabbed at his bare arm, and slowly, it was impossible to tell once more where her hand began and where his arm ended, “Don’t you want to be strong?”

“I _have_ to be strong.” He didn’t pull away, and she sank further inside him. It just wasn’t a matter of what he wanted; what he wanted was to go to Kamii with Hide, to read books, to have crushes on pretty girls and to eat at Big Girl. What he _wanted_ was impossible.

“Then you have to accept me.”

He turned away only for a moment, and when he turned back to her, he nodded.

“Open your mouth.”

When he did, she reached her hand inside him, slender fingers reaching the back of his throat.

His jaw dislocated, and his mouth fell wide. Her fingers reached further, her arm sank deeper.

_He felt nothing as she climbed inside him to live there beneath his skin._

 

“Kaneki! Kaneki! Kaneki!” The ghoul was in a small glass box, a cage, one that, no matter how loudly she yelled inside, would never allow her voice to escape.

He sat in a chair in a checkered room with two-toned hair and a blank expression.

“Kaneki!” She pounded the glass with her fists. “Kaneki!” She quickly broke her fingers against the glass, the red coloring the smooth, clear surface making it appear as if the blood was floating on an invisible canvas. “Kaneki!” she threw her now useless hand against the same spot, but even the strength in her arm was useless.

He still couldn’t see her, much less hear her.

“Kanekiii! Look at me! Look at me! Look at me! Look at me!” She threw her head against the glass.

It cracked.

“Look at me!” Again. “Look at me!” A third time. “Look at me!” A fourth. “Look at me! Look at me!” And with the last hit, she fell in a heap on the floor below, skull completely crushed from the force at which she’d hit the glass.

It only cracked.

 

“Rize?” He looked up and saw her smiling face that was both beautiful and calm.

Like a goddess.

His head lay in her lap, and all around him were beautiful white roses- but they were stiff- not withered. Haise blinked and touched one with a gentle hand- _dried_.

“Oh, it’s _you_.”

Sasaki didn’t understand. Who else would it be? This was his place- his mind- his _garden_.

“You’re supposed to love me,” she said gently, looking down at him.

He picked one of the thousands of flowers around him to get a better look and held it up in front of his eyes. The scent was still strong, but it wasn’t soft; it was brittle. His other hand met one petal and tried to peel it back, but it broke in half. Dried white roses.

“I’m your creator. You must love me. You need me,” she went on.

Kaneki looked past the rose to Rize’s face and met her eyes again. “No, I don’t.” He felt very tired.

She took the rose from him, broke off the flower from its stem, and placed it over his lips. “It’s too late for that, Kaneki-kun.” She pressed the flower into his mouth, and when he tried to speak in protest, he tasted the petals on his tongue. The ghoul’s eyes turned dark and she pressed the whole bud inside and covered his mouth with the palm of her hand, “You can’t deny it anymore.”

He swallowed, and she removed her palm with a damning smile.

“You’re right.”

“Of course,” and she was finally satisfied.

So like a goddess.

“You’ve been right for a long time,” he admitted.

“I have. You know I only want what’s best for you,” and she stoked his cheek gently with the back of her fingers- much softer than the petals.

“I . . . know.”

And flowers bloomed from his eyes suddenly, red spider lilies sprouting from his irises obstructing his vision. They sprouted from his mouth and out his fingernails and from his kakuhou out his back, and everywhere- everywhere his RC cell veins traveled- effortlessly out his skin.

The dried white roses spun and transformed around him, and soon, there was no way to distinguish between his own body and the garden around him- red spider lilies and Rize Kamishiro were all that was left.

Rize stood and stretched. She looked down at what remained of Kaneki Ken and smiled at the dense mound of beautiful red flowers. She produced a lighter, created fire in her hands, and dropped it down below, the red spider lilies going up in flame instantly.

<><><><><><><><><><> 

Twenty minutes later, he’d showered, redressed himself, and fixed his makeup. He didn’t know why, but somehow, being dressed as someone else was comforting. Before leaving the scene, he glanced back in the direction of the couple.

It was nearly impossible to tell where one corpse began and the other ended; there were only bones and inedible organs and cartilage left for the most part. And so much blood.

For a moment, Sasaki just stared.

Was it strange?

It was strange, wasn’t it?

He didn’t feel anything.

Nothing at all. He cracked a finger.

_To eat is to live._

He had eaten. He had lived.

There was nothing left to think about- blank.

He walked out without looking back.

<><><><><><><><><><><><> 

“What is that?” Anna nodded her head in the direction, because her hands were busy fiddling with her bags at the moment. Her eyepatch was decorated for the holidays with a sprig of mistletoe and a red ribbon.

“It’s the _Arch of Love_ , obviously. It tells your future as a couple,” Hide was smiling. He’d enjoyed Christmas day. Sure, he had to work, but he only worked half a day, and even then, everyone around him was in such high spirits the whole time, it didn’t feel like he was working really at all.

“Japan is ridiculous.” Anna watched the gazebo like structure burst with light and sound when a couple stepped inside and then waited beneath it.

“You want to gooooo,” he teased her, running behind her and playfully pushing her in the direction of the interactive illumination.

“No, I-” Anna watched the next couple go in and her single eye grew the slightest bit wider, “-the colors were different?”

“Yeah, it looks like the colors and music change based on the fortune.”

She turned away in the direction of a bench beside some lit up penguins and lights structured to clearly represent a Yamonote line train car, “How stupid can-“

Hide, still behind her, grabbed her shoulders and steered her back, “You want to gooooo. I can tellll.”

“Shut up, Hide, it’s just-“ She may have been blushing slightly.

“Let’s go! It’ll be fun.”

“What? No, I-”

“You embarrassed to go with me?” he accused playfully.

Her tone was harsh and dismissive, “Fuck no. I don’t care either way.”

He took her free hand this time and pulled her in the direction of the line, “Then off we goooo.”

In line, Anna still continued to protest, “You’re an idiot. Wouldn’t you rather be with-”

Hide smiled warmly; nothing would be breaking his mood no matter how many ‘ _bah-humbug_ ’s Anna threw his way, “ _Sheesh_ \- It’s not like you’re my first choice,” he teased.

“Asshole.”

He laughed, “Ahhh, always contradicting yourself.” When she gave him a look in response, he went on, “You are, my adorable side kick, and you know it. Here. We’re next. Gimme your hand.” He took her free hand as they walked the steps to stand in the middle beneath the dome and placed her hand on the short pillar in the center, “You have to touch the orb in the middle while holding hands. Ehhh- do I see a blush, Anna? Miss Elsa over here got a heart beating somewhere in that chest?”

She rolled her eye. She’d never understand Japan’s _obsession_ with _Frozen_. “Let’s get this over with.”

They placed their hands together, fingers intertwined, on the orb in the middle of the structure. It began to glow and after a few seconds, the whole structure burst with color and sound- Anna didn’t understand the useless shit Japan spent money on.

They walked down the steps on the other side of the gazebo. “That one was pretty tame. Maybe it was only white? Let’s look at the chart.” Hide, still holding her free hand, pulled her in the direction of the chart on the side of the dome.

Anna touched the chart with an index finger, “Read it out loud,” she commanded, her interest finally showing through in her impatience.

A minute later, Hide burst into laughter, “Oh wow! It kinda sounds like the worst one!” She waited for him to continue and his lips spread into a thin, toothless smile, “Ah- we got black and white. It says something along the lines of-

What a sophisticated couple! Though the two of you are a _smart_ match, your communication is very poor. Try not to keep each other at a distance. Without sharing your feelings and affection with your partner, your relationship will fail or will continue on indefinitely as merely a professional engagement.

Holy shit.” And he just laughed again.

Anna pulled her hand away suddenly, as if she realized only just now that he was still holding it, “That is _not_ what it says,” the half-ghoul responded flatly.

“Yes it does; read it.”

 She couldn’t read all of the kanji, but she could read enough to get the gist of it. “Oh my god.”

Hide sparkled in a way he must have reserved only for holidays, and Anna found him too ridiculous to look at for more than a second or two, “It’s scary accurate, man.”

“This is stupid.”

“Eh, you love it.”

“I do not,” she pronounced each word with a steady emphasis as if to make her point more clear.

“Why won’t you share your honest feelings with me, Annnnaaaa?”

“Shut up.” She turned and walked away towards the lit up penguins.

He only followed with his dramatics, “Don’t let our work relationship come betweeeeen usss.”

“I’m going to make you regret this, Hide.” She sat down on the empty bench she had been eyeing earlier and looked out at the lights. There were two benches back to back with a netted metal trellis between them. Something about the woman on the other side _smelled_ familiar, but she couldn’t place _why_. Were they being followed? Maybe it was someone from the CCG?

“You wouldn’t do a thing. You think I’m cuuuuute.” Hide joined her, but not before trying to tap her nose, which she easily dodged before shooting a look of disgust his way.

“Dear God, go get a donut or something, so I can drink in peace,” she finally produced the bottle that had been in her bag and set it easily on the concrete below.

“Is that wine?” Hide was intrigued.

“Yes. For me.” The half-ghoul was upfront about it; she would by no means be sharing.

Hide’s voice finally found some level of normalcy, “You’re really taking advantage of the alcohol laws here, aren’t you?”

“I do what I want,” she huffed as she produced a small child’s plastic cup decorated with Anpanman.

“Don’t remind me,” and it was his turn to roll his eyes as he sat beside her on the bench.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She was still trying to place a finger on the scent of the woman on the other side of the netted metal border between the benches. Hide didn’t seem to even notice her.

“You’ve been gone this week for three nights. You couldn’t have been eating all three nights- You’d get fat.”

“Oh, really?” she smirked, and when his eyes narrowed at her, she just sighed, “Relax. I was with my employer.”

Hide saw the invitation, and took it, “Who do you really answer to, then? My father? My brother? My grandfather?”

“The last one,” Anna didn’t look at him as she poured the blood wine, very carefully, into her plastic cup.

“So, you’ve been reporting to him all this time?” Hide, for once, was wearing casual clothing as he had changed earlier. He had his left leg bent on the bench and his right laid straight off the side as he faced her. He felt relaxed for the first time in a while.

“Why are you surprised?” she queried, knowing that Hide was too smart to be surprised by any of _that_. “Didn’t you know?”

“I’m not surprised. I knew after the award ceremony that you weren’t reporting to Matsuri, and after talking to my father the other day, it obviously wasn’t him. What have you told him, Anna?”

“Everything.” She put the cork back into the bottle, and in a rare moment of caution, she placed the bottle back into the bag and out of sight. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the woman’s chest move suddenly.

_A ghoul. A female ghoul. A familiar scent? It couldn’t be-_

“That’s a lie,” Hide called her out, bringing Anna back to the conversation at hand.

She shrugged, “Why would it be? I come out with the truth and you call it a lie, too?”

“I _know_ you. You won’t admit to it, but you care, so what have you told him?”

She rolled her eye again, and relaxed against the netted metal lazily, “I told him typical stuff- nothing that could really get you in trouble except . . . I told him about International Ghoul Law.”

She could tell now. The female ghoul on the other side was . . . Kaneki? Half-ghouls did have a distinct smell. Huh, what were the odds? Wait- why the fuck was he dressed like that?

“That’s okay.” Hide mirrored her position and stretched his legs out to rest his heels in the concrete. “I figured, back then, for that meeting in the UK, so I left a lot out.”

“You never fully trusted me.” She wasn’t surprised.

“You never fully trusted me, either. The feeling is mutual.”

Anna felt like she was going to be sick. “ _I’m a ghoul._ ” Were they really having this conversation right now?

“Right, and that gives you license to be an asshole?” He didn’t look at her.

“You’re not even angry. Don’t start,” and she smirked. She knew better even if he was giving her the cold shoulder.

“No, I’m not, but, well- I’d like it better if we _did_ trust each other more. You may be a ghoul, but you’re a good person,” and when he turned, and his honest brown eyes met her single, human, one, she looked away. Hide was the good person. Hide was the one always suffering because of his _goodness_.

“Idiot. _I’m not._ What do I have to do to prove to you that I’m not?”

“ _You are_ ,” he insisted.

“I feel sick. You’re making me sick.” But she smiled, finally.

“I’m being such a nice guy!” the brunette exclaimed, “You’re allergic to kindness!” he laughed, elbowing her in a flapping motion much like a chicken- a motion that had spawned from some inside joke between them months back.

Careful not to let the wine spill, she used her right elbow to mimic the same motion, and when their elbows met, they pressed into one another as if battling it out with elbows alone, “Maybe I am,” she glowered.

With a smile that rivaled the brilliance of the illuminations around them and a voice thick with verbal irony, Hide shot back, “ _That sounds awful._ ”

Anna, for fear of spilling her wine, finally gave in and let Hide win their elbow battle. She knew Kaneki was sitting right behind them on the other side of the trellis. Hide didn’t seem to notice, at least, not that she could tell. The half-ghoul could use this opportunity. But for what? What would Sasaki want to learn or know?

“Let’s play a _game_ , Hide. It’ll make this more fun,” she offered with something of a lazy smile.

“Yes, because you’re all about _fun_ ,” he grinned from ear to ear.

“Well, no, but you are, and I’ve got wine. Go get your doughnut or something. You’ve been staring at that Krispy Kreme since we walked over here.”

“Of course. There’s a Santa and a snowman and a star! Come with me.”

Anna held up her Anpanman cup.

Hide stood up, “Okay. Okay. Give me fifteen minutes. I’m gonna go to the Lawson’s, too.” Hide waved and left.

<><><><><><><><><> 

“Anemone, you smell.”

Instantly, Kaneki froze. She knew it was him? Of course. He did smell, and she was a half-ghoul, like him, after all. “Do I? Like what?” It didn’t really matter anyway.

When Hide was out of sight, Anna stood and walked around the bench to the other side, “Like a woman. Like, more-so than usual. Is this a thing you do often?” She looked down at the stilettos, the stockings, the dress, the wig.

Haise lifted his head finally, and his clouded gray eyes met her single brown one “What? No.”

Anna blinked. Sasaki was also wearing a black fascinator with a netted veil over half his face- even makeup. The American tried not to blush, “You look hot though. Like damn. You make a much better woman.”

Kaneki couldn’t really process the other half-ghoul’s words at the moment, “What, are you into women or something?” Was this a compliment? Did he want it to be a compliment? He felt so tired.

“Eh, occasionally.” She decided against sitting beside him. The view from where she was was rather nice- the shadow cast over his face, hiding one of his gray eyes- it was beautiful. Kaneki was going to make a comment how that probably wasn’t how it worked, but she went on to ask, “So, why are you dressed to the nines?”

Haise was thoughtful a moment, “I’ve just been . . . eating my vegetables.” His face was expressionless.

She tried to meet his eyes, but the veil of his hat was in the way, “Already?!”

He arched his neck back further, but still, one eye was hidden by the black veil while the other glassy sky stared back, “Yeah.”

Anna decided that he really was gorgeous dressed like that, but something was certainly _off_. “Dear God, you look fucking awful.” Maybe the only thing out of place were some dark circles he hadn’t quite concealed with foundation and his mascara was a little smudged, but she couldn’t admit to that. She pulled her single eye away, because she could feel her face getting hot, “Shit, I _told_ you to be careful.”

“I’m an investigator. Of course I’ve been careful.” That was a lie.

He’d fucked up already.

“No, I mean, just- I’ve had that book, the one I gave you, for years, and there were things even I never understood. I told you, right, that I lost it- I can’t even shape my kagune anymore. I fucked up somewhere along the way. _You can’t fuck up.”_

“I feel like I’ve been hearing that a lot lately.” Did he say that out loud? He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “Why do you care whether I-”

“Hide _needs_ you.” She answered the question before it’d left his lips.

“You don’t make any sense. Hide has-”

“Nothing. He has nothing.”

“-You. Aren’t you helping him?” he raised an eyebrow under his veil and the other half-ghoul had to look away again. This woman was allowed to stand beside him. How could _anyone_ stand beside him and not wish with every fiber of their being to _help_ him? Sasaki scratched his wrist.

Those shadows and that makeup was working wonders on his face, but his whole presence felt _lifeless_ and Anna decided that looking at him just made her feel guilty, so she turned on her heel and walked back around to the other side to wait for their mutual _friend_. “It’s not that simple.”

“You never make any sense.” Sasaki didn’t move, but his face fell once more and he studied the lights in front of him with his back straight.

“Have you practiced?” She held the Anpanman cup with both hands as though it were a mug of hot tea.

“What?”

“Your RC cells.” She sat back down but didn’t face him.

“No.”

“ _Don’t._ ”

 _A threat?_ Sasaki couldn’t tell. “I thought that was the whole point.”

“It is. It is, but just- give it some time. _Let what you’ve eaten become more a part of you._ ” Before Kaneki could question her meaning, she whispered suddenly, “Shit. Hide.”

<><><><><><><><><> 

“They had a Christmas set!” the brunette called from a distance.

 _Skipping back? Seriously?_ Anna scratched her scalp lazily though her black hair. It was Hide. It was Christmas. Of course he was _skipping_.

“Look at how cute they are.” He sat beside her and dropped his Lawson’s bag on the other side of him. He opened the box to show her. “There are six in all: a reindeer, a snowman, a Christmas tree, a santa, a star, and a plain doughnut with crushed candy cane on top of it. I love Christmas!”

“You’re going to eat _all_ of those?” They looked like more than a day’s work of calories alone- maybe a week’s worth of sugar.

“No, maybe not _all_ of them. I can eat the rest tomorrow. I also got this!” Hide pulled out a slice of cake from the Lawson’s bag and held it high in the air.

“Christmas cake?”

“For you!”

 _What the fuck?_ “Hide, I-”

“For when you lose the game,” and his tone was suddenly dark, his eyes briefly losing their shine.

“You’re scary.”

But then he _winked_ , “I might have the tiniest grudge. You called Kaneki a ‘ _pet_ ’.”

Kaneki, right. Kaneki didn’t speak English. He hadn’t left the bench, and if it was his intention to eavesdrop, he wasn’t going to understand _anything_ they were saying. “Still not over that? Okay, if I lose, then I will eat your Christmas cake, and if you lose, _I_ get to eat _you_.”

“What-”

“A bite. A bite.”

The brunette laughed, “You’re bad! You’re trying to steal my virgin purity!”

“What the hell? You’re not a virgin. And it’s only a bite. Don’t make it sexual. That’s gross,” and she actually crossed her arms in annoyance. She’d never admit that moments like these were actually fun, because that would infer that she had some sort of attachment to the human, and she didn’t like admitting to _that_. Strictly business. In the name of survival, or freedom, or whatever; it was all tiring anyway.

“You want to touch me. You want to-”

“Shut up. You watch too many movies. Now that we’ve decided the punishme- the winner’s reward, let’s get on to the game. You remember Two Truths and a Lie, right?” She’d need to figure out a way to get him to switch over to Japanese without it looking suspicious. The game could work.

“Oh yeah! We played it on New Year’s in America.” Hide selected the snowman and pulled him out of the box before closing it up and sliding it under the bench.

“Yeah,” she briefly wondered how he’d remembered that considering that by the end of the night he had passed out from all of the champagne he’d had to drink, “Okay, so we’ll play that, but instead we’ll play it as Two Lies and a Truth, since well- you suck at telling the truth.”

“That’s not even a little bit true. I am as honest as they come.” And he put his hands together to imitate the angels of western religions.

“Right, and I’m human.”

“You are, though.” He decapitated the snowman.

“No, I’m not. Shut up.”

Hide smirked as raspberry jelly began to ooze out the top of the snowman, “Okay, so I’ll tell two lies and one truth, and if you guess the truth, you get a point?”

“Yes, and vice-versa. However, if I don’t guess it correctly, then when it’s your turn, I will only tell one lie and one truth.”

“What? Really? This is awesome. This is way more exciting. High stakes!” He took another bit of the jelly-filled snowman shaped donut.

“Okay, and also, I want to use Japanese,” she took another sip of wine, beginning to feel somewhat content with the evening. It was simultaneously relaxing and interesting.

“What-why?”

“Bonenkai is coming up right? I want to be able to speak coherently. I need more practice. We _always_ speak English. Please?” Anna raised her eyebrows. She’d even said _please_.

“Um, okay, okay.” And he switched to Japanese, “-Wait. One more rule. We have to look each other in the eyes when telling the two lies and the truth. Well, in your case, one eye.”

Anna followed suit, “What? No.” Now, Kaneki would be able to understand them.

“Yup. Or I’m not playing.” He finished his snowman.

“That’s not fair. You’ll win. You can have your cake and eat it, too.”

“Was that a joke? You’re terrible. Keep drinking. Here.” He pulled out a beer after licking his fingers free of icing, “There, we’re on equal playing field.”

“Wow, you’re really pulling out all the stops this Christmas.” She rolled her eye, knowing that an inebriated Hide could still catch someone in their lies.

“What? What’s stopping?” He didn’t follow.

“Never mind.” She’d used two idioms in a row. She needed to stop that, because Hide would never let them go without an explanation; it was very important that to him that he learn every bit of a language that he could, “I guess this is to be expected. We didn’t attend a party this year.” She also knew Hide liked Christmas and New Year’s parties- one’s that were big enough to stand out and disappear in at will.

“Yeah. Okay, explain. It makes no sense in Japanese.”

Anna grunted; she was never exactly fond of playing English teacher. Of course it made no sense in Japanese. She needed to stop that. The half-ghoul responded in English, “ _’Pulling out all the stops’_ means that you’re using all of your resources to make something happen.”

“Oh.” He let it sink in a second. “Ohhhhhh. Okay, let’s play janken to see who goes first. Two out of three.” After two rounds of Rock, Paper, Scissors, Hide lost twice. “Okay. I’m going first. Ready. Ready?” He held a Santa that was missing an eyeball and half of his face in one hand and his beer in the other while facing the half-ghoul who was still holding her small Anpanman cup half filled with wine in her right hand.

“Before I joined the CCG, I killed a ghoul, I kissed a ghoul, or I saved a ghoul?”

“ _Before_ you joined the CCG?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’ve _never_ kissed Anenome?”

Hide crossed his arms suddenly to form a large “X”. “Top secret information! That’s classified! You are not authorized!”

Kaneki, on the other side of the bench, blushed as he wondered why Anna would even ask that. From Hide’s response, he wondered if Hide was blushing, too. The game was interesting, but he hated everything about this moment. He was relieved, happy, that Hide was _okay_ , but he- why couldn’t _he_ smile with him? Why wasn’t he allowed to be near him? He wanted to be with him- beside him- _What would Hide say if he knew what he’d just done_? Haise scratched at his wrist but otherwise tried not to move.

Anna rolled her single eye, “Right, so . . . I’m going to say ‘ _saved_ ’. You _saved_ a ghoul.”

“Damn.”

“A point for me!” she smiled and wrote in pen on the back of Hide’s Krispy Kreme receipt.

Ken stared straight ahead. How much of Hide’s life was he oblivious to? He’d been involved with ghouls before Ken had even become one? Why had he kept that from him? He hadn’t yet read the files Chie had given him. The truth was that he was too scared. How much did he not know about his best friend? How much had Hide hidden from-

“Ahhh, you’re rubbing it in! You don’t have to rub it innnn. You go. You go.” And Santa was gone.

“Alright . . . umm . . .” she was a bit surprised that Hide was enjoying this game that much, but it was for the better; it was nice when he was so pleasant- the days that he were had become fewer and fewer. . . “During my imprisonment, I saved ghouls, I ate ghouls, or I kissed ghouls?”

“You know it’s supposed to be two lies and a truth, right?” He raised an eyebrow and she rolled her single brown eye. “Well, you couldn’t have eaten ghouls, because everyone was fed the same thing and you didn’t get to _choose_ what you ate. I’ve never seen you kiss _anything_ \- not even a puppy- you _heartless ice queen_. I’m pretty sure _that_ isn’t it. Okay- saved. I’ll say saved. It’d make sense. They all listened to you at the prison because-“

“Wrong,” and she actually smirked, because winning felt _good_.

“What? Seriously? Then what was the truth?”

“The second,” and she took another sip of wine.

“You _ate_ ghouls?”

“The warden fed me the children that died in the prison. Human meat was of limited supply for that many ghouls.”

 _You ate children?_ Hide briefly searched her face for some kind of remorse, but when he found none, he felt himself face to face with disbelief, “That wasn’t anywhere in your file.”

Anna became serious, “And where did you get my file from?” She’d been suspicious since she’d learned about Kaneki, but she’d never once clarified anything.

Hide stared, “You’re saying my grandfather planned you and I meeting from the very beginning?” Two donuts was enough; he’d stop there.

“I think so. I don’t really know for sure-honestly.” She paused before adding, “The children- they were already dead.”

“Why? In prison? How did they die?” It _made sense_ , and _that_ was leaving a terrible taste in his mouth.

“I never asked.” And she was done talking about it, “It’s your turn.”

“Yeah. Um-” He tried sipping his beer to remove the taste.

“Only one lie and one truth,” she reminded him.

“Okay . . . This _will_ be harder than the first one.

Pizza is my favorite food. Hamburgers are my favorite food.”

“Damn it, Hide! That information is useless!” she moved to hit him, but he dodged and attempted a laugh, but it fell short.

On the other side of the metal trellis, Kaneki didn’t laugh, but he wanted to. He wanted to laugh, but nothing came.

“You never said it had to be _useful_. And, besides, it is _totally_ useful! You’re the one always ordering dinner into the hotel room.” Which was true. He’d forget to eat on several occasions, and so Anna would always order some kind of room service and always chose junk food. When he’d whine about her fattening him up, she’d innocently comment that she thought humans _liked_ pizza and hamburgers; Americans were always eating them.

“I want a do-over. I thought the point was to improve our communication?”

“Ahh, so you want to share your affection for me, Anna? You’ve held back _so long_. I thought you’d never-“

“Nah, Anemone is _much_ cuter than you.” She replied flatly, effectively cutting him off. “And before you ask, the proof is in the pudding. It’s not like he isn’t _all_ you talk about when you’re bored, or drunk, or half-asleep- or asleep, even.” _Damn it, I used another idiom._

Kaneki didn’t understand any of this, but he felt his face grow hot. Why did Hide throw him so off balance? Why couldn’t he speak with him the way Anna did? Why couldn’t they be friends again? None of this was fair. He wanted- no, he _needed_ -Where did one corpse begin and the other end? Now, he felt like laughing, but he held it in. He wasn’t allowed to want or need any of those things anymore. He could have walked beside Hide before, but now? Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Blank.

Hide heard the idiom, but decided he’d ask later. He nearly pouted at her comment, though, “That’s _not_ true. I talk about a lot of other things like pizza and music and brains and sports-”

“I have never- not once- heard you talk about sports. Also, pizza. Pizza is your favorite food.”

He hung his head dramatically before looking up suddenly, “You’re winning!” And he added, “I think you’re a chronic liar.”

He’d caught onto something, and she tried not to let it show in her face that she was guilty of having seen Kaneki _twice_ already, “Chronic liars are happier people, you know?”

“They _do_ have more white matter,” he nodded.

“Come again?” she blinked. Where in the hell did he learn these things?

“White brain matter.”

“Ah. So, if I’m a pathological- did I say that right?” Hide nodded encouragingly for her to continue, “If I’m a pathological liar, what are you?”

Hide smiled happily, looking a bit too giddy at Anna’s accusation, “ _I’m_ not a liar. I’m just a careful person.” Anna looked unconvinced, and Hide’s smile only grew, “Really, I just say and do what needs to be said or done and nothing more.”

The American rolled her eye, but she decided not to go into what _withholding the truth_ meant. She looked him in the eyes again, steeling herself and hoping he’d had enough beer by now to pass poor judgement.

“Okay.

My loyalties lie with you. My loyalties lie with myself. My loyalties lie with your grandfather.”

“Au, you gave me an easy one. Yourself.”

Anna blinked. Her selfishness was obvious. That was okay. Whatever. Hide had known her long enough, and besides- “So, _I’m_ still winning.”

Hide stuck out his tongue, “Okay, third and final round.

I plan on taking care of the world. I plan on taking care of Japan. I plan on taking care of the CCG.”

“You’re not _that_ much of an idiot. The CCG.” Also, ‘ _taking care of_ ’? What the hell kind of wording was that? Was she misunderstanding him? Could that word be understood differently and she didn’t realize?

“Why would I stop with the CCG?” he grinned.

“ _The world?_ ” She’d need more alcohol if he kept this nonsense up, “Hide, you’re _actually_ crazy.”

“Whoa, jumping to extremes. I don’t want to take care of the world. Change it, maybe, but I definitely don’t want to _rule_ it.”

“So, Japan then?”

“In maybe thirty years?” he laughed sheepishly, and she noticed a color in his cheeks that wasn’t there before.

“Wow,” and that was really all she could say.

Hide looked disappointed, “What? No biting sarcasm? No put down? No heartbreaking insult?”

“Nah. You could do it.” She looked at him and smiled, “I’m sure you could do it if it was something you really wanted.” Her single eye met his brown ones as she spoke honestly. She added, “Especially, for- well, nevermind.”

“I knew there was a reason I’ve kept you around,” he shook his beer can and frowned when he heard nothing inside.

“I’m not a pet,” she pointed out, annoyed.

“No, no, you’re my favorite sidekick.”

“I’m your _only_ sidekick.”

“We should dress in costume one day.”

“Go to hell.” After a moment of silence, she noticed that he was looking at her expectantly. It was her turn. “Right. I’m not eating that fucking cake, so . . .

I visited Anenome and told him you’re in love with him. I visited him and told him to fight for you. I visited him and threatened his life should he approach you.”

“You visited Kaneki?” He had expected it.

“Yes. Old Man’s orders,” she admitted easily. She frowned down at Anpanman; she’d run out of wine.

Kaneki could only draw a blank; no, he didn’t understand any of this. In love with him? No, that would mean- well, that would mean a lot of things, but-blank. Blank. Blank. Blank.

“You wouldn’t waste time talking about romance; that’s not your thing. You also wouldn’t threaten Kaneki- or at least, not his life. He could easily kill you.”

“You think so?”

“You’ve told me yourself.”

“So, what’s your answer?” She was pouring more of the red liquid into her plastic cup.

“You told him to fight for me.”

“We’re tied,” she admitted quietly.

“Tie-breaking round!” Hide grinned.

“No way. We agreed on three rounds. Either we both get our prize or neither of us do. I really don’t want to eat that cake.” She put the wine away again and closed her eyes. Hide waved his hand in consent, and she sipped at her wine. After a moment, she tried bringing it up again, for Kaneki’s sake, "You're in the same city again, but you refuse to even be in his presence."

Kaneki’s heart skipped a beat.

Hide would have none of it, " _We've been over this._ " He put on his earbuds that were more practical when he couldn’t carry a backpack around.

"You're right. I'm sorry. Being the _incredibly_ good person that I am, I just- well, you deserve to be happy, you know?"

"I never said _incredibly_ good."

“Share your music?” She reached around for the left earbud.

“Drink your wine.” He gave consent.

“Ahhh, this song?” She started singing along. “ _It’s been a while; I still carry the flame.”_

Hide joined her only after a beat. It was nice when he was able to hear her sing; he liked her singing.

She stopped with a light color in her cheeks, “No, no, translate it in Japanese.”

“What? Why? It’s Italian.” He made to protest. He didn’t even know Italian; he only knew the words from the song.

“I want to hear what it would sound like.” _You know the English lyrics. Don’t pretend._

He understood her expression and attempted it, “ _And put a little sunshine in your life._ ”

And they sang together, “Io resterò qui ferma finché. Tu non vorrai. Stare con me.” The two continued the song with Hide attempting to translate what he could, and Anna using English and Italian.

Kaneki didn’t understand. Again. He wanted to cry, but he was drawing only a blank. Blank. Nothing.

He didn’t want to be here, sitting on the other side. How had he become a world away from Hide? It didn’t even mean the difference between humans and ghouls. Something so much simpler had separated them? Simpler? He felt so confused. And tired. Maybe he just needed to sleep? He looked at the woman’s wrist watch he’d purchased and noticed that it had been stained with blood. Careless. Time was passing by.

Time.

Something much simpler?

Only time.

<><><><><><><><> 

She was in Ginza again watching from the tall seven story building across the narrow street from the bakery. The bakery was white, and there were little hearts cut into the metal that, when the edges are pulled out, form wings. It’s most beautiful at night, because the light shines behind them and the many little metal hearts create a pattern of steel butterflies that kaleidoscope from the ground up and dissipate into the sky. The bakery is famous.

Touka didn’t know why her friend from high school ended up here at a bakery when she had always practiced for and talked about becoming a chef, but she felt proud of her none-the-less. Since the bakery has a reputation, Yoriko must have already gained attention from someone if she was accepted as an apprentice. Another upside of working at this bakery, at least from what Touka has read in various blogs and papers, is that the bakers were able to experiment with new ideas. There were staple breads, rotating breads, and there was often a bread or two that were completely new.

Touka had never tried any of them.

But, she has read that they were very delicious.

She sat down on the ledge of the building and waited. It was’t often that she was able to see her, because :re closes even later than the bakery does, but she closed :re for the day for several reasons. She’d never admit to this being one of them. She was feeling anxious now. There was a chance Yoriko wasn’t even working now. There was a chance that her coming out here like this will have had no point and she would have to face the fact that her behavior was actually quite pointless, maybe a little bit obsessive, and certainly foolish.

The lights went out, and Touka could hear that familiar laugh, and it was already worth it. Unfortunately, she could barely make out what the two employees were saying below.

“But Kosaka-san, if you try something like that, I’m not sure how the boss will take it. You come in every Sunday to practice, but I think you may be trying his patience.”

“ _Yo-ri-ko.”_ The girl corrected him, “I _told_ you.” She laughed again as he pocketed the keys, “Eh? You think so? It doesn’t show drive? Passion?”

The man walked into Touka’s full view and she noticed that she had never seen him before. He was a foreigner, too. “Obsession, maybe?” He must be new.

“I would think the manager would like obsession.” They were acting so familiar with one another. Touka pulled her knees in up to her chest as she watched.

“He does! –But not when it costs him money. Just what are you trying to bake? I’ve never seen bread that co-”

Yoriko turned dramatically to stop his words with a gesture, “I’m _not_ telling you my secrets, Benoit!”

The Frenchman rolled his eyes and when they resumed their positions of walking side by side, Yoriko shoved him in his side playfully.

The foreigner nearly fell from the shove, but Yoriko only laughed, “Sheesh, I had no idea a man could be so _delicate_.” It reminded Touka of their high school years. Yoriko was never exactly _sweet_ towards the boys in their class; she seemed to save her softer side for Touka alone.

Benoit straightened as they began to turn the corner to the main road, “I’m not delicate! Yoriko, don’t you ever get tired of teasing me?”

“Wait a minute.” Yoriko turned around and looked straight up to the opposite building- straight at Touka. In Touka’s surprise, she lost her balance and fell back suddenly and hit the concrete roof behind her with a sharp _thud_.

_Shit. Shit. Shit._

Yoriko wrinkled her nose and kissed her coworker playfully on the cheek.

The other bakery employee proceeded to shove her away suddenly, his face a new color entirely, “Ko-Kosaka!”

“Nope. No. This is not getting old any time soon.” She laughed again and hooked her arm in his as they made their way to the station a few blocks away, “Hey, let’s go drinking!”

“Tonight? What’s gotten into you?”

“Tonight is a _perfect_ night! I feel like celebrating! We can go to Roppongi! It’s _Christmas_!”

“Ah-well-o-okay- Is that what people do on Christmas?” the other mumbled his agreement as he was dragged to the station. He always went along with Kosaka’s whims. He hadn’t actually made any friends since he’d come to Japan anyway, and she was at least _interesting_. No, she was a good person, too. For how much she did poke fun at him, he could tell it was her way of being affectionate.

Yoriko laughed and tugged on his scarf, nearly causing a scene on the sidewalk. She most certainly had a reason to celebrate.

_Touka, you’re still alive._

Up on the roof, Touka sat up carefully. That had been stupid, but she was fast. Surely Yoriko hadn’t seen her; she’d just been looking in this direction. Of course. No, she was fine. No problem. When she peered over the ledge, she realized Yoriko had already turned on the sidewalk of the main road. Touka couldn’t go in that direction; there were far too many people and, with it being Ginza, it wasn’t uncommon for people to be _looking up_ to take in the Christmas illuminations and the unique architecture. She crossed her arms and held her elbows in her hands.

_Yoriko, you seem happy._

<><><><><><><><><> 

He didn’t visit any family despite it being Christmas; they only reminded him of the empty spaces in his life- mainly his father, of course.

_Kuki, you look more and more like him every day._

_Kuki, you’re taking after your father._

_Kuki, you’re working with the CCG now? Just like your father, huh?_

Fuck that.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like being compared to his father; it was that that was really all the family talked about- what a great guy he was and how his death was heroic.

No one ever talked about how it was _avoidable_.

Anyway, he didn’t need to waste time on some stupid holiday about a fat old man that handed out presents to good little children. He had his own case to work on- a special one. One that, with each passing day, only grew more and more _suspicious_.

He tapped some keys on his phone and seconds later, there was a voice on the other line, “Urie. It’s late.”

Was it? Urie never really paid attention to the time outside of meetings or missions. “Sasaki has left. I think this is the second time. If he’s not with Special Class Arima then-”

There was a pause.

“I see. Either Arima isn’t reporting it or he has found a way to remove it somehow.”

“Yes,” Kuki agreed.

“Follow him next time, but don’t involve yourself.”

Involve himself? Right. _Riiight._ “Yeah. . . . Also, I’ve visited the café I told you about a couple of times, but I haven’t gotten anything- yet.”

“Let me know when you have.”

“I think Sasaki is getting sloppy. He’s going to make a mistake.”

“Just be there when he does.”

“Yeah.”

The phone went silent. Urie tossed it onto his bed.

Time would tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo hoo~! Look, you made it~! Thank you for reading!  
> A user commented a little while ago about Doumeki’s name, and so I thought I’d mention that I think about all of the names I choose for original characters and all of them have meaning to that particular character. Sometimes, I do admit, it is a bit of a stretch. Shun’s for example, was certainly one, but I do what I can. “Shun” can mean “popular”, and he is popular as a host, so it fit as his host name. His surname is “Kabuto”, meaning helmet, and his name (which this isn’t a thing in Japan at all, so I stretched it) is “Tori”, meaning bird. Using those two particular kanji together can spell “torikabuto”, which means aconite or wolfsbane, which is the same flower that Anna pins to Kaneki the last time they met and is the most poisonous flower yet known.  
>   
> 


	24. Hatsumode- Jan 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This includes an omake. There are three chapters preceding this one- two of which are parties. Parties are nice? Yes?

Sasaki smiled as each of them studied their gifts. Focusing on the Quinx was a welcome escape to all that was going on now both in the world around him and within his own mind.

“Maman, it’s so beautiful.” Saiko held the indigo colored fabric with two colors of plum blossoms, white and pink, gently, despite the urge to unfold the kimono by waving it about the room.

The others were taking equal caution, though Ginshi did end up dropping his and it tumbled out of its folds in brilliant orange silk decorated with hexagons and bellflowers.

When he saw Mutsuki look away from his gift, a golden kimono decorated with a single peacock and a pattern of scrolls, to look over to him with a blush, he knew that he was feeling like the gift was too much, so he offered an explanation, “I know that all of you have your CCG formal wear, but I wanted all of you to have something to wear for Hatsumode festivals or anything else, really. It’s nothing. You should have something to dress up in that isn’t work related.”

Mutsuki appeared to accept the idea, but the blush in his cheeks didn’t fade as he studied the garment.

Urie was impressed, and he failed to hide it. It showed in the way he treated the garment, how he touched and studied the pieces and how he traced the bamboo and peonies against the green material.

Kaneki had nothing to give them- nothing to pass down to them. This would have to suffice. It wasn’t like he used his money for anything else. He hadn’t been saving for anything. The CCG provided him with a place to live and all of his meals. The truth was that he had almost no expenses at all.

He had plenty saved for if they needed to escape the CCG suddenly. He was prepared should the need arise.

“Do you have one Maman?”

Sasaki nodded, “I’ll put it on soon. I planned on going to Meiji-jingu.”

Saiko was careful if only because she could sense it. Since they’d come back, Sasaki had been acting strangely. Something had been different before, but now even more-so, “Are we going together?” She hoped so. They had only been reunited a few days, but in just that span of time, her Maman had gone from crying in front of all of them to laughing to panicking and then to crying again. It had something to do with the ghoul that had been identified as Serpent, but there was something else, too. Saiko wanted to know. No, she needed to know, and she’d find out what it was no matter how long it took.  

“You don’t want to spend today with your family, Saiko-chan?” He chose the words carefully, because he knew that while the blue-haired Quinx had an option of returning home, Mutsuki didn’t. He couldn’t say that all of them should go together even if he felt like he needed it himself.

“I’m seeing mine this afternoon.” Shirazu was holding the kimono now like a bundle of dirty laundry after having given up on folding it back properly.

Urie said nothing.

Saiko spoke for all of them, “ _This_ is my family, Maman.”

Haise nodded again, unable to hide his smile. Yes, they were his family, too. He loved them. He had to protect them. He’d do anything to protect them. His actions since he’d regained his memories had proven this tenfold.

Two hours later, on the Yamanote, they found the end of a train car that didn’t have the _no cellphone_ sign, and Saiko, Haise, and Mutsuki sat down while Shirazu and Urie stood above them. Urie slid a hand through one of the dangling gray handles casually while Shirazu gripped the bar above itself. Mutsuki pulled out his phone to read while Saiko studied Sasaki’s kimono, “Spider lilies?”

“The shop keeper picked it for me, actually.”

“It’s so pretty. They’re both red and white. What are these?”

“Kiri. They’re branches of a paulownia tree?”

Saiko laughed and leaned into him, “Is this a woman’s kimono?”

Sasaki marveled at how being in Saiko’s presence could relax him so much. For all of an hour  he’d forgotten about Nishiki. He’d helped her dress and do her hair, and she’d tied the knots on his obi. Upon remembering that Nishiki’s capture could have very well been his own fault, his smile faded to little more than a twitch of his lips.

Saiko leaned into him suddenly with her body and Tooru nearly dropped his phone, catching it just before it hit the floor “Maaamaaan. Cheer up! It’s a new year!”

“Y-yeah,” and he did his best to smile genuinely.

Meiji shrine. It would have more people who participated in the new year’s tradition here, but since the space was bigger, it would be less crowded, so it was clearly the better choice. There were typically more stalls there selling goods since it was connected to Yoyogi Park. There was also the garden, the sake barrels that made for cool pictures, and the tree surrounded with Ema blocks. Some performances were even planned, but no one seemed especially eager to see them. Once there, the Quinx stuck together with Saiko typically leading the way and Sasaki taking photos as the Quinx went back and forth between laughing and bickering. After tossing a coin and saying a prayer for the new year, Sasaki purchased Ema blocks for each of them to write their prayers for the new year on. One at a time, they tied the blocks around the tree, all of the boys respectfully waiting a distance away while Saiko hunted each one down to read herself, hoping that Sasaki’s might enlighten her to his troubles.

She never found his.

Ema Prayers:

I pray that this is the year ~~I can finally relax~~ I work alone. – Urie Kuki

Saiko prays that this is the year she stops depending on others for everything. – Yonebashi Saiko

I pray that this is the year I can prove myself to my family and they can depend on me for absolutely anything! – Shirazu Ginshi

I pray that this is the year I stop living in the past. – Mado Akira

I pray that this is the year I’m free. – Siren

I pray that this is the year I’m finally able to protect all of them. – Kaneki Ken

I pray that this is the first year of many that I spend living life according to my own terms. – Arima Kishou

I pray that Shinohara wakes up. – Juuzou Suzuya

I pray that Shinohara wakes up, too. – Hanbee

I pray that this is the year I feel at home in my own body. – Mutsuki Tooru

I pray that this is the year I can finally make him happy. – Nagachika Hideyoshi

I pray that this is the year we say _farewell_ to this messed up world and _hello_ to a new one. – Kirishima Touka

<><><><>

“Hey, Sasan, can I talk to you a second?” Shirazu was fidgeting nervously in the doorway of Sasaki’s room. The others had all gone to bed after the long day they’d had, but there was something Shirazu knew he’d need to discuss specifically with Haise. In fact, Haise was likely to only person who would understand.

“Yes. Come in. What is it?” Inside, Sasaki was standing over his desk marking the dry erase board calendar with various meetings that had been scheduled since Serpent’s capture, Owl’s assignment, and Samurai’s hopefully impending trial.

“Sit down, okay?” Shirazu’s brow knitted with worry and he bit his bottom lip briefly while scratching the back of his head.

Noticing Shirazu’s string of nervous actions, Sasaki sat down in his desk chair and began popping each of his fingers one at a time, “Okay.”

Ginshi paced a moment, walked over to the bedroom door and closed it, paced a bit more, and finally let it out, “IIIII’m sorry, but-Ican’teatyourcookinganymore.”

Kaneki stared, his eyes going wide, “What? You-“ Had he heard that correctly?

Once the first part had come out, Shirazu was spilling words like vomit, “I think something went wrong with the surgery.”

Sasaki stood slowly, “What? Why? Damn it-you mean-” The color was draining from his face.

Shirazu panicked, “Sasan, I need you to stay calm, okay?” He put a hand on his mentor’s shoulder and, more gently than necessary, gave a soft squeeze, “I’m okay.”

It did little to calm the half-ghoul down. He didn’t know whether to scream or cry. He tried to at least calm down by taking in a deep breath and releasing it slowly. He sat back down and  looked up at his subordinate from where he was seated. Shirazu looked more concerned for him and how he was taking it than anything else. Kaneki mentally cursed himself. He couldn’t be selfish right now. Shirazu was suffering- he- What he feared most was already happening and- “Shirazu you-“

He attempted a grin, “I need to talk to Shiba about it, okay?”

And that set Kaneki off all over again, the muscles over his entire body going tense with worry, “Wouldn’t Dr. Shiba know?”

“Well-“

“Shirazu!?”

“I had a different doctor.”

“What?”

Shirazu was exasperated, and he shrugged his shoulders with a huff, “It was some guy named Doumeki.”

“No." Kaneki knew he had been transferred to the research division, but to work on the Quinx project- why?! Why was Doumeki working with the Quinx? He’d been too relaxed. What had he been doing? First Nishiki and now this?! Why hadn’t he killed Doumeki already? What was Arima doing? No, this was his fault. Why hadn’t he-

Shirazu was shaking him when he looked up, Sasaki’s kakugan blaring red and black panic, "Sasan- hey, ugh- I knew you'd-"

There was only one answer to this.

" _I have to kill him. He has to die._ "

Ginshi couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but he’d never seen Sasaki like this, staring blankly ahead, suddenly so strangely calm with his eyes narrowed. If looks alone could kill-

The Quinx stood in front of him, bringing his head lower so that their eyes were level as he tried to grab at his attention and pull what still remained of his mentor to the surface, "Whoa. Whoa. No way, Sasan- hold up. You don't need to do-“

And something snapped inside Kaneki, because the truth was this was _his fault_. He hadn’t gone after Doumeki, and he _knew_ what he was capable of. "I should have killed him back then. Stupid. Stupid. You're an idiot for not-"

"Sasan!!" Not knowing what else to do to snap him out if it, Shirazu began shaking him, repeating his name in an effort to bring him back. He knew none of these things were directed at him. Sasaki could be a real asshole to himself.

Hands were on Shirazu’s wrist instantly, and Sasaki’s words dripped from his mouth like crude black oil, " _He needs to die._ " Hot black glass slid from the proximal phalanges of Sasaki’s fingers, hooking dangerously sharp above his fingers and curving around Ginshi’s wrists.

“The fuck!” Immediately, Shirazu pulled away, nicking his skin on the sharp black protrusion from his mentor’s fingers.

Kaneki snapped out of his rage at the scent of blood and, after watching Shirazu’s skin heal almost instantly, he looked down at his hands.

Talons? Claws? It didn’t even hurt, but how was it even possible?

He couldn’t slow his heart; he couldn’t calm down. What was happening? He didn’t want this. He didn’t ask for this.

His eyes met Ginshi’s and no words needed be said between them. “It’s okay, Sasan, it’s okay.”

It wasn’t though. None of this was okay. He moved his fingers and the claws moved with them.

Shirazu tried to keep going in an effort to calm his mentor, "S-seriously, like, I'm pretty sure that they may have mentioned it to me. I remember signing consent or something.”

“Consent for what?”

“I’m gonna talk to Shiba about it, but I think they took more than one frame? Maybe? I’m not sure?”

“What was your RC level?”

Shirazu refused to say it, “I’ll get it checked again. In the morning. Just-” He should have known, but he didn’t- he didn’t think Sasaki was going to be this upset. He’d seen him in so many stages of distress, but not like _this_. The Quinx tried not to stare at his mentor’s hands. _That_ had never happened.

“We’re going together to see Shiba. It’s still holiday. I’ll make sure he’s there. You, you meet me in the kitchen in the morning.”

“Sasan? You’re not making any sense.”

“Six am. The kitchen.”

Shirazu didn’t understand, and, in his transparency, his eyes jumped back and forth between the black glass that had sprouted from his mentor’s fingers to his still mismatched eyes. He felt scared, but not for himself. Sasaki was the one who needed to see Shiba.

Sasaki could _see_ the fear in Ginshi’s eyes, and he felt instantly guilty. “I-I didn’t mean to frighten you, Shirazu.” He couldn’t calm down enough just yet to handle what was happening just below the knuckles of his hands. He put his hands in his lap and did his best to pretend.

_I’m okay._

Shirazu didn’t argue one way or another. He trusted Sasaki. He did. But, he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to make excuses for him in order to do so. Something was clearly going on. Something was happening and Sasaki wasn’t sharing a damn thing with any of them.

“This is my fault. I should have-”

The Quinx’s voice went soft, “It’s really not, though.”

“It is-!” he silenced himself immediately. He knew how he sounded in that moment but Shirazu didn’t _understand_. It could have been worse. It could have been even worse. Shirazu could have been abused, tortured. There were worse things than becoming a ghoul and Doumeki could have made any of them happen. He needed to just calm down. He needed to think of Shirazu. What would be the best for him? “But, it’ll . . . it’ll be hard but-“

“Sasan, stop it. I knew this would likely happen one day. I was ready for it. I totally get it. Just relax, okay? I’m not upset. I mean, it sucks I can’t eat my favorite foods anymore, but that’s cool. I’ll just find new favorite foods-“ he blanched at the realization of what he’d just said, “. . . or something- Look, just chill okay? I’m fine.”

“Yeah.” Kaneki was nodding, but his eyes were wide. He clearly hadn’t calmed down, “Yes, okay. Six am. Sharp.” There was no way that Shirazu was fine. He didn’t understand. He just didn’t get it!

“Got it.” And, with a smile too brief to relate any real assurance, Shirazu left Sasaki alone to study the hard black claws that extended a few centimeters past the length of his fingers. No, it wasn’t part of his kagune.

_Could it be? Kakuja?_

Why was it forming only over his fingers? Why wasn’t it like before? The centipede?

He held his hand up to his face and slowly, the claws dissipated.

_What’s happening to me?_

<><><><><>

“Good morning, Shirazu!” Haise finished gathering the tools and ingredients he would need on the table.

Shirazu wiped the sleep from his eyes and stretched, “G’morning.” _How are you this fucking awake every morning, Sasan? Jeez._

“This is yours,” Haise handed him a navy blue garment, and the Quinx made a face as he began to unfold it, confused. There were little cartoon sharks all over it, and when he held it up, he turned it around to realize it was an apron.

“What is this, Sasan?”

“Put it on,” Haise insisted, leaving no room for any sort of disagreement.

“I thought we were gonna, you know . . . ?” He slipped the neck strap over his head regardless, leaving the end of his question hanging in the air. Hadn’t Sasaki told him to be here so that they could eat together before anyone else was awake? Why was the table covered in various ingredients for omelets instead of ominous brown packages?

“Oh, I know what you _thought_. You’re not ready for that yet.” Kaneki tied his own pink apron behind his back.

“What? Sasan- I told you that I-”

“One thing at a time, Shirazu. Today, I’m going to teach you how to cook tamagoyaki.”

 _No fucking way._ Shirazu’s eyes were saucers. He couldn’t do this. “I can’t cook.” He couldn’t even do it when he was human, so how the hell was he going to do it now when he was-? Well.

Haise actually laughed at that, “So we know. However, this is a problem. From now on, you’ll join me every morning in cooking breakfast for the squad, and, over time, I’ll teach you how to cook. This is your new responsibility as Squad Leader.” He added the last part with a wink.

“Cooking?” the _squad leader_ deadpanned. It was nice to see that Sasaki seemed better this morning but what was his game? Sasaki really had at long last lost his mind if he was placing such faith in the possibility. Shirazu, cook? It was more likely that the CCG and Aogiri shake hands and make friends.

“Yes,” and with Sasaki’s tone, he told Shirazu that he was done hearing excuses. “Did your mother cook for you?” Kaneki spoke lightly, well aware of the likely answer.

“No.”

Haise didn’t miss a beat, “Then, how do you feel when I cook for you?”

“Well, I dunno. I appreciate it, I guess. I mean . . . especially knowing that you never are actually cooking for yourself. I missed it when you were gone, and when you came back, but- Well, I mean, you cook pretty often again now. I . . . I never realized how selfless it was.”

Sasaki smiled knowingly and handed him one of the cooking utensils they’d be using, “Shirazu, don’t get whisked away! This will be fun.” He had a great deal of confidence in Shirazu to understand the heart of the lesson he was attempting to teach. Heart was something that Shirazu had quite a bit of and it was essential for making good food. Kaneki remembered Arima giving him his own cooking lesson using rather different methods and a smile surfaced on his face once more. Of course the reaper had his own way of doing things, and so did Kaneki.

Shirazu at least knew what the utensil he’d been handed was used for. All he had to do was break the eggs in the bowl and mix them around with it. He stared at the eggs and then looked back at Sasaki, “Sasan, I’m not sure you’ve actually _seen_ me cook before.”

“Just relax. Making tamagoyaki takes patience, so you don’t want to scramble.”

“What? I _don’t_ scramble the eggs?” Then why had the guy just handed him a whisk? He had been so confident in knowing what to do with it, too . . .

“Shirazu, it’s a joke.”

“I knew that.”

Sasaki handed him an egg and grabbed one of his own, “What you’ll notice first about human food is the _smell_.” There was a bowl in front of both of them. Sasaki cracked the egg with a swift tap and then spilled its contents into the bowl. Perfect.

The Quinx felt a chill run through him. Human food. Sasaki had made a distinction of human food. It was food that Shirazu would no longer be eating- food he would never eat again, because he was no longer- Shirazu _did_ notice the smell immediately. Eggs never smelled particularly great, but they didn’t quite smell like _this_ , either. It looked fine and the carton said they wouldn't expire for another week, but they smelled rotten. Confident that cracking an egg was as easy as it looked, he repeated the action and watched as half the shell ended up inside the bowl as well.

The half-ghoul’s tone dropped suddenly, his voice cool and disapproving, “I see you need to practice _that_ too.”

Shirazu, confused, turned to look at his mentor with his mouth in an upturned “U” shape. He’d heard that tone several times before, but it wasn’t one he liked hearing.

Kaneki answered his expression with a wave of his hand, “Later, later. We’re sticking to food for now. Put that down the drain. You will start over.”

The Quinx did as he was told and came back to stand behind Sasaki, grabbing another egg in the process.

“Your body has already changed. It’s time for your mind to catch up to it. Try again. Be more gentle.”

“Yes.” Ginshi gulped. The air around his mentor had changed, but with it, he felt more motivated somehow. Before, he felt like there was room to complain, but now, now he felt like the only option Sasaki would accept was success. It was just breaking an egg. How hard could it really be?

Forty minutes later, Shirazu understood why Sasaki had asked him to come down at six am. The Quinx usually came to the dining room by about seven-thirty. It had been forty minutes and only now had Shirazu successfully cooked tamagoyaki to his mentor’s expectations.

Sasaki looked at the rolled egg on the plate. He could do this in under five minutes and it had taken Shirazu a half hour to get it right, but that had been expected. Besides, he felt that much more proud of him when it finally turned out nicely. It had taken six tries for him to produce one, but the final product had been produced with a learned skill, something Shrirazu could use at will from now on.

“It looks great. You can go ahead and take off your apron and go sit down.” Sasaki poured coffee in two cups with a gentle expression.

Ginshi, having no suspicions at all, offered first to help him clean up, but when Sasaki shook his head, he removed the apron and hung it in the cabinet where Haise typically hung his. As soon as he sat down at the dining room table, Sasaki slid the product of the morning’s efforts, in six even slices, in front of him.

“Eat.”

“Sasan, I told you. I don’t think I can-”

Sasaki set down chopsticks beside him and placed a warm coffee mug in front of him. As if to seal his fate, Sasaki sat right beside him with his own mug in his hands.

“Eat it, Shirazu.”

Ginshi took up the chopsticks and put the first slice in his mouth and gagged suddenly, the egg falling from his mouth and into a napkin he rushed to his face.

“Eat it.” Sasaki’s face was blank as he watched. This was not easy for him, but he knew it was necessary. Perhaps this was how Arima felt back then at least to some extent.

Shirazu looked at him like he’d suddenly sprouted a pair of wings.

“Before the others come down.”

Shirazu tried again, but this time, he didn’t place the egg in his mouth on his tongue as he did the first time. Instead, he placed it as far back as possible so that it could be swallowed easily. He still wanted to cough it back up, but it went down.

“All of it.”

Shirazu repeated the same tactic for the third and fourth slice, but he was sweating, his eyes were watering, and he wanted nothing more than to take sandpaper to his tongue and scrape it free of tastebuds until it was as slick and smooth as a dolphin. Why was Sasaki torturing him like this? What was the point? The egg was awful, disgusting, the worst thing he’d ever eaten in his life!

“You’ve got to crack a few eggs to make an omelet.”

This was stupid. He couldn’t take a joke right now. This was just ridiculous. Why was Sasaki making him do this? It was hard enough already. All of this was hard! Didn’t Sasaki understand that-

“It means that in order to achieve something, Shirazu, something must first be destroyed.”

“So-so?”  He took the fifth slice of the egg and stuffed it down his throat, dropping the chopsticks in a clatter and holding his hand over his mouth immediately in hopes that he could keep himself from vomiting. It had been too much. Too much.

“Today, you’re destroying the idea that you will ever be human again.”

It took several seconds of blurry vision and an itch in his nose before Ginshi realized he was crying. He swallowed down the egg, and he felt it, like soggy clumps of seaweed, slide and fall down his throat and land in his stomach.

He remembered the meals he’d eaten with his team, Sasaki always smiling as he placed delicious meals- breakfast, lunch, and dinner- in front of him to inhale. He remembered the meals he’d eaten with his family. Haru and Mizuki would bicker while Momoko would threaten to eat all of their dessert.

Food wasn’t just about the stuff you put in your body to keep it functioning. At least, it never had been before. His whole life, food had meant shared experiences; he had so many memories surrounded by food and all of them with people he loved and cherished. But now, everything would be different. He’d never again be able to share dango with Momoko or hot mochi with Mizuki at festivals or when they traveled. He wouldn’t get to share anything with Haru as she grew up. He wouldn’t eat cake on his wedding day. He wouldn’t share ice cream with his children.

His life had really been so impacted by food. He’d completely taken it for granted. So much of his life had revolved around it- no, a human life in general. Humans ate three times a day give or take. That was over three thousand meals in a year. He hardly ever ate alone. That meant over three thousand missed opportunities to share in something with the people around him.

“Sa-Sasan!” His whole body shook with the realization. His tears smothered him.

Now, now, he’d be eating with Sasan some kind of strange red stew that arrived in a telling brown package a couple times a month.

He wasn’t sure how long he cried, but at some point, probably towards the beginning, Sasaki had stood and wrapped his arms around him to embrace him in a hug. It felt nice. He could no longer feel the comforts that food once brought him, but he still had this. He had the comfort of knowing that there was someone who loved him despite what he’d now become. He knew Sasaki wouldn’t be the only one. His siblings would find no problem in his change he was sure. Still, it mattered. Sasaki, more now than ever before, really mattered to him. He needed him. He needed him to be there for him, to teach him, and to guide him. He needed him to be okay, too.

The squad leader sniffled and, finally, after how long, he didn’t know, he returned the embrace and wrapped his arms around Sasaki as well as he continued to cry. He was convinced that perhaps, for the first time, he really did understand just how lonely Sasaki must feel.

The question left now was, ‘What could be achieved in losing one’s humanity?’

What could he achieve now that he was a ghoul?

 

<><><><><><><><><><> 

**Omake: Cooking Lessons**

 

“Haise, good morning,” Arima arrived in the kitchen at precisely seven looking dressed and ready for the workday. The crease on his slacks were crisp, his collar was starched, and his hair was combed to the side.

Wearing a blank expression and using a serious tone with a voice that sounded too small to be coming from his mouth, Sasaki Haise reciprocated the greeting, “Good morning, Arima-san.” He had been released from the research facility only a week ago. Before that, he’d spent four weeks recovering in the hospital. Now, he was to live with this man in his apartment temporarily. He could remember very little before he’d regained his eyesight, and he could remember nothing from before then. He’d been told he was twenty. Twenty years. _Gone._

“Today is your first lesson, Haise,” and the amnesiac followed the older man with his eyes as he unfolded a pink apron, put it on so that it settled around his neck, and tied it around his waist.

The person he knew as his mentor and teacher, Arima Kishou, had asked him to report to the kitchen promptly at seven in the morning the previous day, but Haise didn’t understand why he’d be reporting to a _kitchen_. He was trying to put the pieces together when his elder handed him folded white clothing.

When Haise took it, the clothing fell and unfolded on its own to reveal its identity- an apron. Haise looked at it curiously as though it was some foreign garment from another country.

“It’s an ‘ _apron_ ’. Put it on.”

Sasaki did as he was told with ease, since he’d just seen Arima put the same garment on. Hearing the name helped him piece together information. He knew what the garment was used for, but he hadn’t been able to remember what it was _called_. That’s how the last three weeks, since he’d been able to see, had gone. He knew how things worked or functioned or what they were used for, but he needed to hear the _name_ of it just once before he recalled what it was. It was strange, because once he did hear the name of something, he never had to hear it again. He knew this was an apron all along. But wearing one didn’t make sense . . .

This garment was something that was worn when in a kitchen during food preparation to prevent one’s clothing from getting dirty.

Sasaki was well aware that his mentor knew.

He didn’t eat human _food_ ; he ate _humans_.

“You’re going to make tamagoyaki, Haise. Take the following ingredients out,” and suddenly Haise was at the refrigerator. He had already learned that his teacher _did not wait_ and he _did not repeat himself_ , “-eggs, salt, sugar, soy sauce, oil.”

 _Eggs. Salt. Sugar. Soy Sauce. Oil. Eggs. Salt. Sugar. Soy Sauce. Oil. Eggs. Salt. Sugar. Soy Sauce. Oil._ Sasaki repeated the names over and over again in his mind to remember. He knew that eggs were chicken’s eggs. They were also labeled in the fridge inside of a carton. Easy. He knew what salt and sugar were and that they wouldn’t be inside a refrigerator. In the books he had read, they’d been kept inside cupboards. _Soy Sauce. Oil. Soy Sauce. Oil. Soy Sauce. Oil._ He read every label of the things inside the fridge. It was the first time he’d looked inside a fridge. As he read each label, his memory sparked- something connected. Of course that was _milk_ , and that was _orange juice_ , and that was _sesame dressing_ and _miso_ and- _soy sauce_. Of course, _this was soy sauce. Oil. Oil. Oil._

“The oil is in the cupboard,” Arima offered his assistance, and Sasaki bit his lip, disappointed in himself for not knowing that. His teacher must have been getting impatient, because he’d given him a hint.

He’d only gotten the eggs and the soy sauce from the fridge. When he opened the cupboard, he was able to grab the salt and sugar quickly. He made that motion very purposeful. He wanted Arima to know that he knew what they were. He hadn’t needed to read their labels. He read the labels of the liquids first, and much to his pleasure, he’d found the oil, but there was . . . . more than one. Before he was able to express his dilemma, his teacher spoke.

“Rapeseed.”

“Here,” and Haise put the ‘olive oil’ back and set the ingredients on the island in the kitchen. Arima moved to the other side of the island, “You now need your tools. Take out a rectangular frying pan, a mixing bowl, a plate, a knife, measuring spoons- you’ll need a teaspoon and a quarter teaspoon, and long chopsticks.”

Haise moved quickly, repeating the names of the objects in his mind as he searched for them. Luckily, he knew most of them already from the books he’d read and the little TV he’d watched. A few minutes later, all of the objects were on the island.

Without condemning or condoning his selection, the ghoul investigator palm up, gestured toward the ‘rectangular pan’, “This is not a frying pan. This is a glass baking pan used for dishes baked in an oven. A rectangular frying pan is made from cast iron and has a silver handle.”

Blushing, Haise moved to correct his mistake. He could remember seeing the object Arima described and felt embarrassed for choosing the wrong rectangle, because he knew- he _knew it was the one with the handle_ , obviously. He was getting used to feeling _impotent_ , and it was _not_ a feeling he wanted to continue experiencing. He’d just have to learn quickly. He needed more _exposure_.

Haise stood on the other side of the island in front of the ingredients and the tools and gathered what little courage he had to point out how incredibly backwards all of this was, “Arima-san. I can’t eat this.”

“You are not cooking for yourself,” his reply was simple.

“But when would I need to cook for others as an investigator?” and the question was entirely innocent.

“As an investigator? Never. As a human? You never know. It’s something you should be prepared for.”

Sasaki thought the reasoning was inadequate, but he’d never voice that. Maybe there was a part of this he wasn’t understanding, or better yet- maybe there was a part of this that Arima wasn’t _saying_. Either way, it was true that humans and human food were deeply intertwined. He only needed to eat once a month. Humans ate three times a day. Some even ate more often than that. In truth, human food was really rather inescapable in this world . . . even if you were a ghoul.

“Every action you take, in order to be successful, requires a certain amount of preparation. You are physically prepared to cook tamagoyaki. Are you mentally prepared?”

“I-I don’t know how,” Haise blushed again and looked at the ingredients to avoid seeing his mentor’s stare.

“I will show you once. Then, you will replicate my actions.”

Haise nodded to show he understood, and Arima appreciated how focused his charge was in learning the art of cooking tamagoyaki- mixing the ingredients using long chopsticks and frying and rolling the egg. As Sasaki watched, he felt himself get a little impatient. As long as he was able to ignore the awful smell of the cooked egg, he felt very confident he could accomplish this. Maybe he’d made tamagoyaki before . . . back when he was human- that part of his life he didn’t remember.

“Your apron is white,” Arima pushed his glasses up on his nose, “if you soil the apron, we start over with a different, more difficult recipe. Do you understand?” He had finished the first tamagoyaki and, after moving it from the pan to a small plate with the chopsticks, he sliced it into six perfect 1-inch pieces. Sasaki absently wondered how eggs could look _cute,_ but his mentor had managed to make that happen.

Sasaki knew his mentor was strict, but he was only just realizing that he was _unreasonable_. Still, if this was as easy as it looked, then maybe there was nothing to worry about. He just needed to be careful. Just as Sasaki was about to start on the next batch, his mentor leaned in and spoke directly to him, their eyes level. “What you need to learn, Haise, is _precision_.”

Haise, still trying to _understand_ the person he was required to learn from and live with, cracked an awkward smile as a chill ran down his back, “Y-yes, sir.”

An hour later, there were five tamagoyakis to choose from. Haise had not soiled his apron in any way, and on top of that, he had also successfully made four other tamagoyaki sets in addition to Arima’s example. His body had _remembered_ and once he’d begun, his hands moved quickly to complete the task. “It’s a good skill to have, Haise. All people eat, but not everyone can cook,” Arima labeled the plates by placing little cards in front of them on the table as he spoke: _Arima’s, Sugar, Salt, Soy Sauce, Haise’s_.

Sasaki, without thinking, felt his lips form a _smile_. He felt _happy_. His mentor had just complimented him, hadn’t he? As he watched Arima move the plates to the small dining table, the cards turned towards one seat and not the other, his smile quickly faded. His mentor set the table, two plates, two pairs of chopsticks, and two napkins.

“Have a seat, Haise.”

“Arima-san, I can’t-”

“Sit down, Haise,” and his tone was uncompromising. Something about it genuinely scared the half-ghoul, so he did as he was told. It was clear that Arima Kishou was powerful. The CCG was trusting a ghoul to him; a ghoul was living with him. Sasaki knew better than to think for a second that meant they trusted himself. No, it meant the CCG trusted _Arima_ would be able to handle him should he revert to the monster he once was . . . the one he’d heard vague yet haunting stories about.

Arima had calculated the entire lesson. This was merely the next step. He took one of his own tamagoyaki slices and placed it on Haise’s plate with his chopsticks. He then took one for himself and brought to his mouth to eat. Other than a little cold, it was just how he liked it. The flavor was even- both sweet and salty.

“Now, what does it taste like?” he watched as Haise struggled to bring the egg to his mouth. Their eyes met briefly before the half-ghoul shoved the whole piece into his mouth and began to chew.

Haise tried not to cry, “Awful. It tastes terrible.” He already felt sick and it was only the first piece.

Without letting Haise see which plate it had come from as the labels faced him, he picked up another slice from a different plate and placed it on Haise’s plate, “Eat.”

Haise shook his head slowly, refusing to look at him. It was clear to Arima that this was a harrowing experience for him, and though he honestly didn’t want to put this boy through any more pain than was necessary, he knew that this current lesson was just that- necessary. Haise needed to learn to not just _act_ human; he had to assimilate into the CCG seamlessly. Otherwise, there would be no point in keeping him alive and labeling him _human_ at all.

“Eat, Haise.”

Haise took the egg quickly with his chopsticks, chewed, and swallowed. He couldn’t hold it back any longer. Tears fell from his eyes. It wasn’t just the taste that was painful; it was the affirmation that came with it.

“Now, what does it taste like?”

“A-Arima-san. Please-I-”

His expression and tone did not change. “What does it taste like?”

And then something clicked, “Like tears?”

Arima’s eyes smiled behind the round lenses of his glasses. He picked up the small card and placed it on Haise’s side of the plate. It read ‘ _Salt_ ’.

“Salt water. So, I can taste salt?” Haise thought he might be beginning to understand what was going on with this torturous experiment, but it was still sadistic in nature. He tried to store the taste in his memory. _This_ was the taste of _salt_. A _salty tamagoyaki_.

“Some like their tamagoyaki salty and with ketchup.”

Haise nodded and wiped at his eyes with his sleeve.

Arima picked up another one from a separate plate and placed it gently on Haise’s plate. As if he knew this one would take time, Arima stood to take a pitcher of water from the counter and poured a glass for Haise, setting it beside him as he sat down again.

Actions like these that showed that his teacher could be _kind_ were what Haise clung _desperately_ to. He picked up the next piece with his chopsticks and shoved the piece in his mouth. When he nearly choked, he grabbed the glass of water and drank the egg down quickly.

“What does it taste like?”

Haise dropped his head, trying desperately not to vomit on the table in front of him. He couldn’t face his mentor feeling like this. He was so weak. Human food could make him this _sick_? How could he possibly pose as human? How had he ever _been_ human? How could his body have _changed_ so much?

“S-sand,” he whimpered.

“You’ve eaten sand before, Haise?”

Haise shook his head, his white hair falling over his eyes as he bowed his head, unable to lift it as all of his thoughts were focused on not emptying his stomach, “I don’t remember. I-I think this is what sand would taste like. I-I don’t know.”

Arima moved the card to the front of the plate and it read ‘ _sugar_ ’.

_Sugar tastes like sand._

“A lot of people enjoy very sweet tamagoyaki.”

Arima had him eat the next one, but he hadn’t been able to identify the soy sauce. Finally, he tried the one he’d made that had mirrored the recipe of Arima’s, but he couldn’t tell the difference. Awful. Disgusting. Nasty. They all tasted the same. Only the one that had used extra salt and the one that had used extra sugar tasted different. After eating the last sample, Haise was unable to hold back the tears, but, still feeling ashamed, he covered his eyes.

Arima knew it wasn’t the food that was causing Sasaki’s tears.

“Food is community. It is conversation. Eating someone’s cooking is an act of trust.”

Haise nodded his head to show that he was listening through his tears and sobs.

“We will begin each day with a new recipe. You will follow the recipe precisely as it is written, and I will eat your food.”

Haise hiccupped from the tears, no longer able to hold anything back. It was embarrassing, but Arima had already seen him weak. It wasn’t a secret how very _dependent_ and _helpless_ he was.

“Do you understand now, Haise?” and he felt a hand on his shoulder. It squeezed gently as if to reassure him of some silent promise.

He wiped his face again with his sleeves and looked up at the man he trusted to turn him into something that could not only function in this world, but could thrive. He nodded slowly, “Y-yes, Arima-san.”

What Haise hadn’t realized was that this was also a lesson he desperately needed- one that would change him from the timid amnesiac into a confident ghoul investigator.

This was a lesson in trusting _himself_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys don't hate me for writing other things. I apologize for taking so long.  
> Also, the order and meaning of the prayers are not coincidental. :D


	25. Bonenkai -Dec 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so tired of editing this that I'm going to be terrible and throw it up. Soo, I will come back to it tomorrow when I am a person to fix errors. Many apologies.  
> Kaneki is an emotional rollercoaster. Who is this guy, even? I am a failure with POV for this chapter. The point of view is all over the place. I tried to keep it third-person omniscient, but it got sort of scattered in some areas. I’m sorry. OTL I will work hard to improve in the coming year.

“Okay, we’re always seen together, and we don’t work with other squads that often; you know that’s going to change soon.” With a blank expression, Sasaki gathered his squad together. The Quinx had just entered the large hall and had moved out of the way of the incoming employees so that Sasaki could lay down the rules for the evening. Everyone was dressed formally, but not in their CCG attire. The Quinx were dressed as they had been last year, ties, suit jackets, etc. and Saiko wore a red and gold dress Akira had picked out with her several months ago with a black cardigan. Bonenkai was a party, yes, but it was also a work obligation.

“Really? So, like, we could work with Akira-san’s new squad?” Shirazu tried to straighten his tie and after a few attempts, Mutsuki knocked his hands away without a word and fixed it in seconds.

“Yes, possibly.” Sasaki, keeping his tone strictly business, fixed a barrette in Saiko’s hair and she beamed up at him. She was hoping to see that same motherly look of concern her Maman used to give when the Quinx weren’t acting their age, but, much to her displeasure, his expression had remained unchanged. “After we captured Amo-Samurai, we will likely have a lot more attention headed our way. We’ll be assigned to more difficult missions. Larger operations.”

“Good.” Urie was fixing his gloves. He hoped they’d have license to leave after midnight; he really didn’t want to be forced into socializing with others meaninglessly.

Kaneki knew how he should have responded to Urie’s comment, but instead of reminding his subordinate that it just meant that their lives were at a higher risk and there was nothing good about it, he merely offered, “Enjoy yourselves, but let’s not have a repeat of last year. There will be a lot of people to greet this evening. Please socialize.”

Last year, Urie had left as soon as he was out of Sasaki’s sight. Shirazu and Yonebashi had staged an eating contest at the buffet which had nearly resulted in Mutsuki having an anxiety  attack. Sasaki had been forced to apologize to more than a handful of people on their behalf and he’d suffered a Mado punch at the stroke of midnight. Still, a lot had changed since then. Though he would always be concerned for them on some level, the Quinx had developed more as a team.

“I think I might _greet_ the buffet. C’mon Kuki, let’s see what they got.” Saiko’s fingers intertwined in Kuki’s and she pulled him along.

Sasaki raised an eyebrow, “Saiko, that’s not what I meant.”

She turned around and gave him a thumb’s up, “It’s okay, Maman, I’ll find Kuramoto-san later and he can give me a piggy back ride.”

Urie pulled his hand away from her’s and narrowed his eyes, “Saiko, you need to watch what you-”

She only grabbed his hand back and dragged him closer to the food, “Don’t lecture me, Kuki; I’m cute.” When the blue haired Quinx winked at him, he flinched away and rolled his eyes. He had no idea how that was some kind of argument for being allowed to eat more, but he said nothing to the contrary.

Sasaki let it go. There was nothing wrong with Saiko enjoying herself; she had worked so hard lately. Of all of them, she’d actually changed the most, so seeing her relax was actually much needed. It was difficult to focus both on the children, and Amon, and now Nishiki, never mind his own situation, Hide, Anna- He walked aimlessly into the crowd leaving behind Tooru and Ginshi.

“Sensei . . . ?” Tooru didn’t like how Sasaki had simply disappeared on them, and he briefly considered if it would be better that they stick together. Rather, maybe it would be better if he kept an eye on Sasaki to make sure he was okay. He envied Saiko a little. Mutsuki tried putting on a smile and nudged Shirazu in their direction, “Aren’t you going to join them?”

Shirazu laughed back with one hand behind his head as a nervous reaction, “Nah, I ate before I came. I was starving. Kind of ruined my appetite . . .” His eyes searched the hall instead, hoping Tooru would let it go if he showed that he clearly wasn’t interested.

Mutsuki began to scan faces as well. “Oh, okay.” He didn’t think it was possible for Shirazu to turn down free food, but he could remember at least one time when Shirazu had refused food; that had been ice cream after an all-you-can-eat shabu shabu place, though. “Who are you looking for, then?”

Shirazu rubbed his nose with a finger and sniffled. He couldn’t be surprised with Mutsuki. He’d need to be more careful if he was going to hide the results of the operation from him. It sucked having to lie, _again_ , to his best friend, but, what was he supposed to do? It’s not like he could just tell the truth. He spotted the one he was looking for. “I’m gonna go check out this thing though-”

Mutsuki followed his line of vision. “The memorial for the dead?” Mutsuki locked his eyes on the back of a blonde woman’s head. Akira. That’s who he was looking for. Now everything made sense. That must have been why he didn’t join Saiko.

“Yeah-I-” Shirazu didn’t finish his sentence as he began walking towards her.

It was easy to see that this was not the best idea, however, so Mutsuki insisted on following after, “Okay. I’ll come with you.”

Akira looked up just in time to see them approaching. Keeping her expression blank of her true thoughts, she nodded her head once, gave an apologetic smile, and turned away.

“Akira-san- wait-”

It was too late. She was already lost in the crowd by the time the Quinx had made their way over.

“Just give her some time, Ginshi.”

He was visibly hurt from the rejection, “ . . . Yeah.” He had no problem hiding his disappointment in regard to Akira and even his body slumped forward as his lips turned downward in a frown.

Mutsuki crossed his arms and frowned at the plaques on the table. Over sixty members of the CCG had died in the past year but Mutsuki’s first thought was thinking that the number was too small for all of the large operations that had occurred. He only recognized a few names, and he felt embarrassed for it. The CCG employed many people, sure, but the names on the plaques were just words. Next year, they’d just be statistics. This was all their fighting amounted to. He attempted to consider the situation in front of him instead, because there was nothing he could do for the dead.

Shirazu needed Akira for something new. Otherwise, he would have made the effort he was making now at the izakaya. It meant that something had changed for Shirazu; something had happened. Mutsuki wondered if it had to do with Ginshi himself or if it was Ginshi’s transparent concern for Sasaki that was driving him. He tried to choose his words carefully to imply that whatever Akira’s reasons were for keeping her distance, still, it had nothing to do with Ginshi personally, “I imagine, if the rumors are true, that she’s handling a lot right now.”

Mutsuki was only awarded with a silent nod from the squad leader.

<><><><><>

“I don’t understand how we’re supposed to let our hair down when they’re holding this at headquarters. It’s the same damn hall they used for the promotion ceremonies.” The half-ghoul’s arm was linked with Hide’s mostly out of Hide’s fear of her being left to her own devices. She rarely ever got him in trouble, but after a bit of wine, her lips were always loose, and she clearly had no understanding of Japanese etiquette.

Again, Hide was left confused by her use of idioms, “You want to let your hair down?” She had taken a half-hour putting it up in various barrettes and now she wanted to take it down?

The half-ghoul rubbed at the makeup beneath her visible eye as if to fix something out of place. Her eyepatch was covered in scarlet begonias for the evening. “It’s an expression,” she responded as they got lost in the sea of investigators and staff. Bonenkai was not required, but it was strongly encouraged. Forcing morale through required parties made zero sense to the half-ghoul no matter how many times Hide had tried to explain it. There had to be somewhere in the area of three or four hundred people there. At least people were coming and going- otherwise the hall would have passed its max capacity. Anna explained in English, “Letting your hair down means to let go of your inhibitions and enjoy yourself without worry.”

He nodded as he led them through the crowd. He was looking for Arima. Hide appreciated the crowd if only because it meant he could find and locate those he needed to speak to and avoid the ones he . . . couldn’t.

“My hair is always down,” a voice said suddenly from behind.

Hide tensed a moment before turning around, pulling the half-ghoul with him, “D-dad?”

Anna blinked. Was this guy for real?

Hide tried to laugh it off and he released the half ghoul’s arm to take the drink his father had offered him, “Director Washuu, you shouldn’t sneak up on people like that. It’s as if you were eavesdropping?” It still felt weird saying ‘ _dad_ ’, but Yoshitoki had requested he use the title even within the office. He’d always considered Yoshitoki his father, but their relationship had been mostly bi-annual visits and e-mails. He was more present when he was small, but something happened between his mother and father, and after that, it was like Yoshitoki was constantly second-guessing any kind of contact with him. That was, until Hide had started working for the CCG.

Yoshitoki continued the conversation in English, respecting the foreigner’s native tongue, “Eavesdropping? Never! Wanting to know my precious son’s relations to the woman he is arm-in-arm with? Certainly.” He turned to Anna with a smile and a voice much friendlier than their first meeting, “We didn’t speak much before. My apologies, Anna.” He hadn’t brought a drink for her. He knew better.

The half-ghoul appreciated that he’d remembered, because she never gave a last name and she never would. What she didn’t appreciate was the scent of alcohol on his breath, “No, sir. Pardon my rudeness, but I was exhausted that evening- Hideyoshi and I both.”

“Oh? My, Hide, I didn’t realize you played for both teams.”

Hide nearly spat out the drink he’d just tasted, “D-Dad! Would you not go there?”

Anna was laughing immediately, pleased to see Hide react in such a manner, “I wonder what Anemone would think?” It was rare that others would get a rise out of him. She was beginning to like his father much more; he was a bit of a tease.

“Oh, what a unique name. Is that your lover? Why don’t you ever tell your father these things?” The director was well aware that his behavior was a bit over the top, but the occasion, _bonenkai_ , called for the japanese practice of _bureiko_ \- it was acceptable to behave informally and ignore the typical structures of the work place.

“His lover? Yes!” And she was standing beside the director as if the two had suddenly formed a team to torment Hide. With an eye of mischief and an air of drama in her voice, she continued to tease, “They’re having a terrible time of it though. Their relationship has been long distance for some time.”

Yoshitoki’s interest was piqued and his eyes widened with a raise of his eyebrow, “Hide?” He wouldn’t hide that he was quite interested in grandchildren. He wasn’t expecting anything for some time though. He was losing hope with Matsuri, anyway.

Hide rolled his eyes, “It’s her nickname for Kaneki.”

The director didn’t miss the opportunity, “Oh? Then it _is_ the name of-”

“Dad!” Hide tried to reason with his tone alone. Anna laughed. This was too much. He turned to meet her single eye, “You don’t know what my father would do with that kind of information.”

Yoshitoki had always been aware of Hide’s interest in his best friend. Though he rarely spoke with, well, whom he considered the love of his life, they did speak on occasion to discuss Hide’s health. Hide’s mother had expressed a few times as Hide was growing up that the two were inseparable and that neither of them ever dated for long, if at all, and if they did, she noticed that Hide never met anyone outside of school aside from Kaneki Ken. It wasn’t until Kaneki’s capture and Hide’s resulting actions that it finally clicked for Yoshitoki. He smiled genuinely quite nearly to his eyes and even patted his son’s cheek as he spoke, “You’re my cutest son. Your secrets are safe with me.”

Hide actually laughed at that, “I don’t think I have much competition in Matsuri.”

A laugh bubbled up from Yoshitoki’s lips, “Speak of the devil.” Yoshitoki saw him just behind Hide by a couple of meters, “Oh, here he is now. You two should talk more.”

“I just remembered I left my charm and tact over by the kara-age.”

It wasn’t in the half-ghoul’s job description to save Hide from his brother, but truthfully, Anna had no interest in being around Matsuri Washuu, either. “We’ll have to be leaving, Sir. Hide can’t go long without his charm and tact; all he’s left with are his looks, and that doesn’t count for much.”

The director smiled knowingly, “Just try and enjoy yourselves. Socialize a bit, son.” and he nodded his goodbye to the half-ghoul, “Miss Anna, do take care of him.”

“Good evening to you, Mr. Washuu.” and she returned the gesture, “I’ll keep him out of trouble.”

Hide appeared skeptical, “Wasn’t it you who-”

“Yes, yes-” she pushed him in the direction of the food, “Oh, there’s the kara-age. Do you actually want some?” She linked their arms together again, “He can be very humorous when he wants to be. He was rather serious last time.”

“It’s . . . difficult at times. He’s a pain in the ass,” Hide admitted with a smile. At least, whenever Hide was trying to get things done, he could present a problem.

“He likes you,” and once the words were out, she wasn’t sure why she’d said it. Were they for Hide?

Hide was smiling, but his tone of voice reeked of discontent, “So what if he does?”

Anna actually frowned at that. “We need to get you a beer.”

“You can’t solve everything with alcohol, Anna.” He found himself wondering if she were following American stereotypes on purpose at times.

“No, but one can try. You’re too grumpy for a New Year’s Eve party.” In truth, she was making some amount of effort this evening. She was used to being the irritable one, so whenever they switched places, it would drain her of her energy. “Forget the kara-age; there are the drinks.”

“Nope, it can wait.” With their arms still linked, Hide turned them around to walk in another direction.

Anna stubbornly mimicked the action to lead them back towards the long tables, “Eh, cause the children are there?”

Hide argued through clenched teeth, “What if Haise is somewhere nearby?”

“I don’t smell him.” She replied quickly.

“That’s weird.” He relented and allowed her to lead them back towards the buffet and drink area. After a beat, he asked, “What does he smell like?”

“A female ghoul. And blood.” She added with a nod causing one of the scarlet camellia petals to fall,  “He smells pretty good.”

“O . . . kay.” Hide didn’t question it, but he was certain he wouldn’t describe Kaneki’s scent in quite the same way . . . assuming he still smelled the same as he had back then. Kaneki . . . Back then, he smelled like nothing specific. He had his own scent that couldn’t be pinned down with comparisons. In his hair was the musty air of libraries filled with old books in tight spaces. On his skin, he could smell life itself- a little salty and a little sweet. The brunette could remember his skin was cotton-soft and always smooth, never dry or calloused or scarred-

“Ow!” he felt a pinprick on his arm.

Anna observed him smugly, “You were having perverted thoughts.”

“I was not.” He grinned, a genuine smile finally appearing, “Why, were you?”

Anna gave a flat look and directed her attention forward with a nod of her head in the direction of the long tables of food and drink, “I want to meet the little half-ghouls.” She was pulling him closer towards them, “You want to meet them, too, so let’s go.”

Saiko smiled brilliantly as she pressed another small ball of white mochi into her teammate’s mouth, “Kuriki, you really like these tiny kagami mochis.” Each time she did, she made sure her fingers slid between his lips. Her grin only grew when she began to notice the light color in his cheeks. Teasing Urie had become one of life’s great pleasures.

Some things were impossible to control, but facial expressions was not one of them. Even if Urie was beginning to feel a bit hot in the giant hall, he could continue wearing his stony, apathetic glare, “ _I don’t_ , and I’d appreciate it if you stopped trying to feed them to me.”

Saiko was not trying; she was clearly succeeding. “Have I ever mentioned how cute you are when you’re annoyed?”

Anna threw caution to the wind and approached them with Hide in tow. Once again using the tact of a child, she asked outright, “You’re the Quinx, right?”

Saiko had just finished pushing the bottom piece of the kagami mochi into Urie’s mouth, her fingers sliding across his lips just as the stranger had approached them. The blue-haired Quinx nearly yelped and hid her hands behind her back suddenly, lacing them casually to appear as if she was merely excited and not surprised. Once she found the source of the voice, however, she took a step back and bumped into Urie.

Before her was a foreign woman with gorgeous black hair. She was wearing an eyepatch covered in scarlet colored flowers, and her black dress worked wonders around the curves she had. The man who had linked arms with her was clearly Japanese, but there was something about him that made him unique from any of the other investigators in the hall. His smile . . . He appeared as if he was glowing. It wasn’t the kind of smile that looked contrived or mischievous. He didn’t look like he was hiding anything, either. No, it felt genuine, kind, and loving. Her eyes widened, however, when their eyes met. She’d seen eyes just like his before, though they were of another color. Sasaki. He had Sasaki’s eyes- from before he’d regained his memories, but still. Inside them were good intentions, selflessness, and an unnameable pain that could never heal. The otaku instantly wanted to make friends.

The half-ghoul nodded politely and extended her hand, “Anna. Nice to meet you. You must be Rank 2 Yonebashi? Rank 1 Urie?”

Saiko nodded as she shook the foreigner’s hand, “Nice to meet you.” It wasn’t uncommon for people to know who they were. The Quinx project participants had yet to fade into the masses of the investigator’s employed with the CCG.

A second later, Hide removed himself from Anna and offered his hand as well, “Ah- Hideyoshi Washuu. I’m not an investigator; I’m with foreign affairs. Please call me Hide.” It would have been more accurate to say that he _was_ foreign affairs as there was no one else in the department exactly, but he refrained.

Urie blinked and went through the motions when a hand was offered to him, “Washuu? You’re-”

Hide waved away the validity of the gossip with his right hand dismissively, “Yes, yes, that’s me. The famed little brother.” He laughed a little. He really didn’t want to do this right now. “The two of you are quite famous yourselves.”

Before Urie could say anything else, Saiko leaned forward, eager to know more, “Ohhh, foreign affairs? You travel a lot?”

He laughed again, because that always made one appear more humble and less intimidating, “Well, it comes with the job.”

The half ghoul leaned forward slightly to speak more closely with the shorter woman, “He’s been to many countries, Yonebashi-san: Canada, America, India, all over Europe-”

“Have you been to France?” she directed the question at the brunette specifically. Yes, these people were not only pretty, but they were really interesting as well. Why had they come to speak to her and Urie? Was it really only because they were part of the Quinx Squad?

Hide crossed his arms in front of himself loosely, his elbows resting in the palms of his hands, “Yes.”

Saiko immediately took the opportunity that had presented itself and tried practicing her French, "Tu parles français couramment?”

Hide smiled as he answered, " Je ne parle qu'un peu."

  
The blue haired Quinx lit up, her whole body moving with the words like a dance as she moved closer to the brunette," Ta prononciation est très bonne. "

  
Hide laughed at her excitement. He knew she was only being kind, "Merci beaucoup. Et toi, comment l'as-tu appris?"

  
Urie watched on in disbelief. He’d never seen Saiko like this before. Her hair was up in the same style. Maybe it was the makeup? It matured her face a few years and turned her lips into white cherries. Urie imagined what colors he’d need to mix in order to recreate them. It was nice but it certainly wasn’t the catalyst to this new transformation. Maybe the dress? It hugged her chest and made it apparent that, despite her average weight, her size was still quite small. It certainly was a change of pace from what she normally wore, but, as Urie’s eyes studied her every curve as she floated about speaking a foreign tongue, he determined that wasn’t it, either.  

  
Saiko answered Hide’s question with glitter in her eyes as she felt Urie’s eyes on her, "J'ai entendu ma mère parler en français, et puis j'ai étudié seul.” She enjoyed having Kuki’s eyes on her, especially when it caused that flat expression to stretch into one of confusion and awe. Grabbing at his attention and holding it was a game she’d play as much as she could.

Urie couldn’t look away. The way the French rolled off her tongue made her _appear_ different. Her eyes shined with a confidence that looked neither feigned nor forced. The way her body moved, like a song as she spoke, held no clumsy or lazy purpose.

  
"N'est-il pas tôt pour kagami biraki?" Hide glanced in Urie’s direction and only smiled at him.

  
Saiko continued to gesture with her words, her feet light on her heels as she motioned to Urie, "Oh, il aime manger le mochi quand il est encore douce." She put her hands together, palms flat, and winked like a shoujou anime character, "Il aime les sucreries."

  
When Hide laughed, she turned her gaze up to Urie and linked their arms together.  "N'est-ce pas, Kuki?"

Urie tore his eyes away suddenly as his blush deepened. Like a _woman_ . She looked like a _woman_. The fuck was that all about?

She switched back to Japanese, “Well, don’t you?” She’d noticed every thought that had crossed his mind, and from her own knowing expression, it was clear she was quite pleased with herself.

Kuki’s cheeks only grew hotter when their eyes met again. It had only been a second. He looked away again immediately, “I’m not going to answer that.”

Hide and Saiko laughed together, and Hide had already decided he liked Saiko. It made him happy to know that someone like her was with Kaneki.

“Washuu-san, you’re really quite charming!”

“Hide, please. Not even Hideyoshi. Please, just call me Hide.” his laughter receded and it left a smile on his features in its wake.

“Hey!”

He felt himself turned him around and the owner of the voice asked him with wide eyes, “You’re _Hideyoshi_ Washuu?”

“Yes?” The Foreign Affairs representative recognized the young man as one of the other Quinx immediately. It was Shirazu Ginshi.

Shirazu cut to the chase immediately with the only question that he needed answered, “You know Kaneki Ken?”

Hide hadn’t expected that Kaneki would tell his squad about him. How much had Kaneki trusted his squad members? Hide’s eyes widened ever so slightly. It shouldn’t have been something that Shirazu would have been able to detect under normal circumstances, but Shirazu wasn’t handling the burden of his mentor’s mental state as a normal circumstance.

“You gotta come with me!” Ginshi grabbed his arm and pulled him suddenly back into the crowd of people.

The foreign affairs minister tried to protest, “What? Wait. I’m busy at the moment. What is this about?” He felt the color leave his face. This couldn’t happen. Not now. He wasn’t ready. Kaneki, he wouldn’t-

Mutsuki noticed the sudden change in the brunette that Ginshi had grabbed by the arm, “Shirazu, you can’t just-” Mutsuki tried to be gentle in his tone but with the effort he was making to just keep up with the squad leader, it was difficult for him to not sound like he was attempting to _correct_ his behavior.

“It’s about Sasan.” Ginshi’s determined voice held its own sword, and, ready for battle, he directed his attack, eyes narrowed, towards Hide. “ _You have to see him._ ”

“What? You mean First Class Sasaki?” Hide’s eyes retreated and searched behind him for Anna. He didn’t want this. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t face Kaneki now, not when-

“Yeah! He’s in trouble and- Damn it- I just saw him a second ago!” Ginshi stopped suddenly to find a new path and attempt to catch sight of his mentor all the while pulling Hide behind him.

The sudden halt, however, gave the brunette the opening he needed. Hide knocked Ginshi’s hands away coldly, and his eyes narrowed uncharacteristically and darkened in color like storm clouds rolling in. Rarely did he ever act in this manner, but he wouldn’t be forced into this situation. There were _reasons_ he just couldn’t do this, and the young investigator needed to _understand_ that. He would not be forced into meeting-

“Hide?”

_Too late._

Hide’s expression didn’t change when his eyes met with those of his oldest and dearest friend. Kaneki had appeared from the crowd to their right with his hand over his mouth in shock. Here they were, face-to-face, for the first time in over three years and Hide’s first greeting was one of firm indignation. Hide now belonged to the Washuu, and the Washuu belonged entirely to the CCG. He had to obey.

Hide’s eyes held no sunlight as he shot Shirazu a warning glance before allowing his eyes to be  captured inside his best friend’s chilling gaze, “Your subordinate was very insistent that I see you, First Class Sasaki.” Each gear clicked into place. Hide, the automaton, manufactured by the CCG, stamped with the trademark of Washuu, had been built through years of surgeries replacing broken parts with more advanced technology-a clock in place of a heart and wire synapses to keep communication traveling in one direction. A tape recorder played in place of his vocal chords. His lunges had been removed completely. The dead didn’t need to breathe.

Anna appeared behind them with Yonebashi and Urie close after. She said nothing. There was no helping Hide in this moment. She preferred that this happen sooner rather than later, anyway, even if this was not the best circumstance.

The Quinx studied their mentor’s eyes as they darkened without light from the sun. Though they hadn’t discussed it together as a group in some time, they all knew that Sasaki was suffering in his own way. The night they’d come home had shown them just how fragile he was. Watching him now was like watching something burn, and the person that had set him aflame was this Hideyoshi Washuu. Fire ate away at anything it could until everything was left unrecognizable. Was it really possible that one person could so significantly change another just in a matter of seconds?

Hide was in awe of his own ability to separate himself from the tragedy that was his current relationship with his best friend. Three years. Three years and roughly two weeks. And that was since the hospital . . . and outside V14 . . . How long since before then? He felt like screaming and crying and sky diving and laughing and- maybe it was something akin to a terrifying new _invincibility_? But, he didn’t show it. He was able to stand there and keep a stern expression, one he rarely had ever shown Kaneki growing up, and not lift a finger to reconnect with the one person who was his every reason, his every beautiful thought, his happiness, his pain, his shining sun and his glittering night sky. He’d had three years to prepare for this moment. He was only gears and wires now, right? He could watch Kaneki turn to ash and feel entirely immune, right? No, he could go on feeling nothing at all, right?

Their eyes met, and he made sure that Kaneki would see only a _void_. He couldn’t give Ken hope, because he wasn’t in a position to make promises.

Hide was suited to the art of lying, so even if he were to regain some sense of feeling from this encounter, he’d be able to keep playing puppet. From a very young age, he’d become very good at it. He could lie with his words, his eyes, his expressions, his hands, and even in his posture. He could carry his lie through every fiber of his being and, if needed, he could even hide himself away from the one person who unknowingly dictated his night and day.

Kaneki was crumbling in his presence, and if he stayed long, he’d become only ash. The half-ghoul’s voice wavered when he spoke, “I’m sorry, I- Shirazu, _let him go_.” His voice was smoke that escaped him as little more than a whisper, “We’ll stay out of your way.”

“But Sassan, isn’t he-?” Shirazu’s eyes widened and his bony hands reached for Sasaki’s shoulder.

Haise willed himself to turn away from Hide and focus solely on the Quinx, “Let’s go, Shirazu.”

And he walked away.

Ginshi followed close behind, clearly questioning his mentor’s actions. Mutsuki trailed after with his brow knit in concern.

Saiko didn’t understand what was happening, but the grief in her Maman’s eyes was enough to tell her that she had every reason to be worried. She quickly bowed her head slightly in the foreigner’s direction as a means of a respectful farewell. “N-nice meeting you.”

Hide gave an apologetic smile.

Urie gently put his hands on her shoulders and led her away from the scene of the crime against their mentor’s heart. He didn’t understand what was happening, either, but knew Saiko wanted to be with Haise first and foremost in that moment.

With the Quinx gone, Anna crossed her arms in front of her chest and remarked on the brunette’s pitiful behavior, “Damn, Hide. You keep this up and it’ll become too easy, you know?”

“What?” Hide took a breath and slowly released it. He could still breathe. He was still alive. How had he made it through that alive? Light returned to his eyes. The storm passed, but it had left destruction in its wake.

“You keep convincing yourself you don’t care, and, over time, it gets easier not to.” Whether she was actually speaking from experience or not was up to Hide to decide.

Hide, at least in that moment, didn’t really care. He couldn’t allow himself to care. He’d burst into tears the second he did. “I’m not in the mood, Anna.” He wanted to find a dark cave and get lost inside it. Total darkness is rather terrifying. He felt like he needed to be scared right now. He needed to feel fear. Meeting Kaneki after all this time had stirred in him something beyond terror and he needed to be brought back. Maybe, if he feared for his life, he’d be okay again.

The American wouldn’t let the issue drop; it was too important. She’d watched Hide suffer for nearly two years, and seeing it all come to this was infuriating. “You’re hurting him unnecessarily. You can just tell him why you’re keeping your distance.”

Hide didn’t look at her. “You don’t know him like I do.” He crossed his own arms in front of his chest, mimicking her posture, “ . . . And why do you even care?”

“I don’t, but-”

“Then don’t lecture me. You’re the one who made us speak to his squad. Is this what you wanted? Are you satisfied?” Anna had several uses, and, at times, Hide was guilty for using her carelessly as a wailing wall. Tears, screams, bouts of immaturity, she would receive all of it.

“Fuck, Hide.” A few people turned to watch them, but the half-ghoul paid no mind and switched to English. “Ugh, your sour fucking mood is not ruining my evening.” It was a threat. She was ready to recede into the shadows. She could do her appointed job well without actually being present for the party.

Hide heard the threat in her words, but his tone was all wrong when addressing her, “ _Anna_ -”

“I swear, you keep this up, and you’ll just become what you hate.” She felt annoyance from her own actions presently, and that was making her tone twice as harsh. She’d started out not giving two shits about the Japanese man with the death wish, but that unfortunately wasn’t the case anymore.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Figure it out, asshole.”

And she was gone.

Hide didn’t stop her, but in her absence, he shrunk. He was used to being spoken to like that by the American; he _wasn’t_ used to her meaning even half of what she said- let alone _all_ of it.

 _What am I doing, Kaneki? What did I do? How-_ Hide needed a way out. _How, after all this time, how could I look at you like that and-_ Somewhere he could be alone. _What have I become, Kaneki? Who am I if I’m not your best friend? What am I doing this for if I can’t be the person you rely on?_

He found it, not in the exit, but in the door on the left side of the hall. He wasn’t sure where it led, but as long as he was no longer in the same room as Kaneki, he might be able to escape his guilt for at least a few minutes. Hide tried the handle to the door, and, having found it to be unlocked, opened it slowly to peek inside. It was another lavishly decorated hall, but much smaller- maybe a tenth of the size. He stepped inside and walked towards the one wall with tall curtain covered windows. From there, he could see most of the room, and it thankfully appeared to be empty. The CCG was prepared to entertain, that much was certain. He wondered just who would be invited to a room like this and what it was used for. Small ceremonies? Large dinner parties? For now, it would be his hiding place.

Deciding the dark room could at least use some light, he pulled one side of the tall curtains covering the window in front of him. Seeing no one there, he pulled a chair from a tall stack and sat it by the window. The city lights filtered in, and it brought forth a wave of mixed emotions. He felt nostalgic, like he was home, but at the same time, it felt empty. He missed moonlight. It was so rare in this city. The brunette rubbed at his nose in mild annoyance. He could smell cigarette smoke. Someone must have lit up during their own escape from the party.

Hide continued staring out at the city lights but then noticed his reflection. He could hide behind the curtains. He could dwell in the shadows. He could close his eyes. He could never get away.

“Hide?”

_Shit._

“First Class Sasaki?” He stood up, the chair scraping the floor in a scream of protest that echoed through the empty room. Hide was sure it was voicing his own inner terror at having been found with his defenses falling fast. The brunette hadn’t even heard anyone enter the room. It didn’t make sense unless Kaneki had been in there the whole time, but Hide hadn’t seen him. How could he have missed that?

<><><><><>

Kaneki couldn’t cry. Hide was standing there, alive, breathing, beautiful half in shadow and half painted in city lights. The way his eyes _glowed_ just made the whole experience too surreal. Seeing Hide alive was a fantasy. How many times had he spoken to him in Cochlea? How many times had he dreamed about him, even before he’d gotten his memories back? How many times had he begged him to die when he’d thought it would just mean joining him? _Hide._ He looked different, of course, but what mattered was that he was _still Hide_ , and he was _still alive_.

Kaneki stepped closer and came into the light to join Hide by the window. He studied the physical changes that had taken place in his dearest friend. The biggest change was the hair, of course, but it wasn’t that it was another color so much as the fact that it was his _natural_ color. It could have been the way the flashing lights outside were shining in through the window, but the color of Hide’s hair wasn’t only brown.

“Komorebi?”*

Kaneki stepped closer still, and his eyes read the colors of Hide’s hair like one would read words in a book.

“Beech. Lacquer.” He was standing in front of Hide now, his memory of their reunion only ten minutes prior completely gone from his mind as he continued to read the colors, “Ginkgo and Momiji.” Fearlessly, his eyes distant in awe of the light, colors, and words planted in Hide’s hair, Kaneki reached forward to touch the many colored strands.

“Kaneki?” Hide took a step back, his full attention on the investigator. His behavior was too strange. He was acting like he was a mirage and he really wasn't seeing him at all. If Kaneki got too close, Hide would disappear.

The half-ghoul retracted his hand and brought it to his chest, his opposite covering it over his heart, “Would you call me ‘ _Ken_ ’, Hide?”

Hide looked confused. What had he done? The way Kaneki was acting now, was it his fault? “What?” He stepped further back and into shadow, not realizing he was behind the curtain and out of the light provided by the city.

Kaneki reached forward suddenly and grabbed at his clothing to pull him back into the light, “ _Please._ ” The single word was weak and desperate and at the same time distant and dreamlike. “ _You can’t go yet._ ”

The half-ghoul watched as Hide tried to maintain his composure. Kaneki wasn’t letting go of him, and he was looking _through_ him like he was entirely transparent. “But you go by Haise now, right? What’s the matter? Don’t like it?” Hide kept his tone light and airy and gently placed his hands over Kaneki’s. He clearly wanted him to let him go of the lapels of his suit jacket. He needed Kaneki to just _let go_. The investigator decided he _would not_.

With Hide’s hands on his, Haise felt himself relax, but he wouldn’t let go. He still couldn't believe this. Hide was standing here in front of him and he was alive. The half-ghoul found Hide’s eyes. They were the same as his hair- the sunlight filtered through the fall leaves of trees. They were beautiful and warm and seeing into them was like coming home. “I just want you to call me Ken.” It meant something that Haise couldn’t put into words. “ _Only you._ ”

Kaneki still didn’t let go even as it dawned on him. No, he could definitely put this feeling into words.

_Hide is the only person who knows who I really am. Even I don’t know- not really. Hide is the only person who can remember me as I used to be, and he is the only person who learned and knew who I truly was. He is different now, but Hide is the only one who knows me enough to accept and understand how I’ve changed. Only Hide. No one else. So, it’s only right that Hide call me by my true name, because only Hide knows it. Only Hide._

“Ouuuu. Whhaaaat? You’re giving me shivers! Haha! What’s gotten into you-?” Hide stepped out of Kaneki’s reach by pulling away his hands from his clothing. Kaneki was just _too close_.

“ _Hide_ ,” Kaneki put up his hand with his palm flat in front of him. It was their first move that initiated their secret handshake they’d created together as kids. They’d practiced for hours before getting it right, but once they had it down perfectly, Kaneki could remember being happy to have shared something between himself and Hide that only they knew about.

 _Kaneki, you’re only making this harder._ Hide took a moment to steady his emotions. His voice was low and quiet, “Things can’t go back to the way they used to be,  . . . Ken.” He put his hands in his pockets and watched as Kaneki’s eyes only appeared to cloud over more.

Kaneki put his hand down. “I’m not asking that they do.” He didn’t appear to be hurt by Hide’s refusal, and instead of arguing it, he moved on to discuss the present, “I think I understand, Hide, why we can’t be together, but I-I just- I want to support you.” He had read the files. He knew all about the things Hide had done. “It’s true. You have changed. You’re no longer the sun itself. Instead, you’ve become the sunlight filtered through the leaves in the trees. You’re-”

<><><><>

“ _Stop._ ” The brunette couldn’t believe what he was hearing now. Kaneki was just blindly accepting him? Hide frowned, and his next words were thorns, bitter, and poisoned, “ _You understand?_ ” His eyes darkened once more. _Of course you don’t, Kaneki. You have no idea. You have no clue._ _And I-I can’t be responsible for bringing you into this mess I’ve created for myself._

Hide heard his next words escape his lips and he wondered from what scar they had bled from, “You’re deciding to trust me _now_?”

Hide watched as Kaneki attempted to cry. He looked like he _felt_ that’s what he was _supposed to do_. No tears were coming. Hide understood that the question had stolen away his voice and left him speechless.

Hide regretted the question immediately, “It’s okay.” Hide internally fliched at how gentle his voice had become suddenly. He didn’t want to hurt Kaneki; he _never_ wanted it to come to that. Kaneki had always been strong, but his behavior now was something different. His actions were not born from strength but something else. Hide nearly blamed himself before he recalled all that had transpired in his best friend’s life, none of which had been fair or normal or _easy_.  But, maybe it was better. If it kept Kaneki away from him, then maybe it was better, “I understand you had your reasons, but- if you really mean what you say, can’t you just trust that I know what I’m doing?”

Kaneki shook his head, his eyes glossy and clouded over, “We’re supposed to do this together.” The words came with such clarity and ease that he wondered if he were meant to say them all his life.

Hide physically turned away from his friend at the words. He needed to calm down. He needed to compose himself. He needed to focus on feeling nothing, being nothing, because the second he did- the second he gave in, he’d-. _I’m trying to save your life, Kaneki._

“That’s just not possible, Ken.”

Hide felt a hand on his shoulder turn him around, and Kaneki was suddenly so close that he could feel his breath on his lips. In a split second, their eyes met, and in each other, they saw something had never before- _promise_.

Hide pulled away suddenly, stumbling over the chair behind him clumsily as he felt a blush rise to his cheeks.

Kaneki put his hand over his heart. It _hurt_. It felt like someone was squeezing every drop of blood from it like humans squeezed a lemon to make lemonade. Pain traced his forehead and wrote injury in his eyes. He moved his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, until, finally, he felt his face warm as blood rushed to his cheeks. Why was Hide blushing? Why was he? Why did it feel like his heart was fighting just to go on beating?

“You-You’ve got to keep going on, Kaneki- without me.” Hide stood, no longer able to hide how human he still was, “Okay?” He didn’t know why he asked. It might have been the way Kaneki looked in that moment: like he’d been shot in the heart and lost the ability to speak, like the words he was attempting to convey were words he’d been wanting to say for centuries, like he _needed_ Hide, like he needed Hide to _need him._ In a last effort to make this as painless as possible, Hide _smiled_.

<><><><><>

Tears.

Finally, they’d come back.

Kaneki was wiping away at them immediately, not ashamed, but not wanting to cry in front of Hide, either. As the tears fell and the half-ghoul dirtied his sleeves shamelessly, he began nodding his head.

“You’ve got this, Kaneki . . . . _Ken_.” Hide corrected himself only a moment later. He hoped he’d done the right thing. He needed to give Kaneki hope, but not hope that they could work together or be together or even- He only watched the half-ghoul cry a moment more before turning to leave. If he was going to create a world where Ken could be safe, he couldn’t get Ken involved.

Kaneki didn’t stop him from leaving. Even if he wanted to, he didn’t think he’d be able to actually vocalize anything in that moment. He closed his eyes and recalled what he’d just seen.

Hide’s _smile_.

Kaneki, now alone, sat in the chair Hide had been sitting in only moments prior, and as the tears continued to fall, he smiled to himself as he recalled the facts. _Hide’s alive. Hide’s alive. He’s really alive, and he’s-_

**_Hide has a lot more power than you think he does._ **

**_Does one have to die? Not if someone’s strong enough to save both._ **

**_I don’t want to take care of the world. Change it, maybe-_ **

_He’s- Hide is going to change the world like he changed my world. He’s going to change everything._

Haise finally took control over his tears and quieted himself and looked out the window with a smile that refused to fade, “what could be better, Hide?” He felt himself laugh in a way he hadn’t in years, pure joy overwhelming his thoughts and traveling through his body and bursting through his lips and fingertips. “What could be better, Hide, than dying to make your dream come true?”

<><><><><>

It was another half hour before Haise emerged from the side room of the hall, and as soon as he did, suddenly bumped into Taishi Fura. When Haise retreated back against the door, he apologized immediately, his gray eyes alight like they hadn’t been since before he’d regained his memories. It was Taishi Fura.

“First Class Fura-san. Sorry, I got a little turned around.”

Taishi took a step back and raised his eyebrow. “I’m trying to find a moment of peace from my wife. What’s your excuse, Sasaki?” He meant for being in the other room- a room with the lights off and clearly off-limits at least for the festivities of the evening. “You’re suspicious.”

Sasaki put his hands in front of him defensively, suddenly nervous but unable to come down from his high, “I’m not. Really, I’m not. I-we-we should just head back to the others.”

Fura crossed his arms. “You’re a terrible liar.” It was a bit fun to see Sasaki so flustered; from what he’d heard from Arima, he wasn’t in the highest of spirits lately.

“Fura!” Ui waved over at him from a few meters away, made a beeline for him, and reported diligently, “Your wife is looking for you.”

“She’s here?”

“She said she’d wait for you by the food. Are you avoiding her?” The Special Class Investigator smiled slyly.

Fura rolled his eyes, “Right, I’ll text her. Give me a break, okay?” He left the two to find his wife, “See you around, Sasaki.”

“Y-yes.” Haise called after him, nervous but still smiling stupidly.

“Oh, and Ui, meet me later outside?”

The investigator nodded. He understood that his name would be tossed around both for a smoke break and an excuse for Taishi to have a moment of peace from his very sociable wife, but he didn’t mind.

Ui couldn’t place the smile Sasaki was wearing now. He appeared to be a completely different person from the one he’d spoken to only a few weeks ago that he’d picked up from Cochlea, “Enjoying the party?”

“Yes. Yourself?” Kaneki didn’t quite meet his eyes; he felt transparent at the moment, and he needed to gather that feeling of numbness back if he was going to be talking to Ui Koori. The man was smart, and he was always suspicious of Haise, even if he didn’t always show it.

Ui leaned against the wall and watched the party go on with mild interest, “Yes, but I wonder . . . it’s never been made more clear, I think.”

Sasaki joined him but it was mostly to remove his association with the door to the other room. The last thing he needed was Ui asking why he’d ducked out, “What’s that?”

“The fragility of CCG’s future. Having all the Washuu in the same room at once; I wonder just what will happen when the Chairman kicks the bucket.”

“Oh . . .” It had been a thought at the back of his mind, as well, but Tsuneyoshi didn’t look like he was going anywhere anytime soon. And then it hit him, and he was smiling again, his eyes aflame as if he was keeping hidden some burning secret.

Lucky for Kaneki, Ui wasn’t watching him. “No comment? You should pay closer attention, Sasaki. After all, the result would affect more than just your livelihood, would it not?”

“Ui-senpai!” A blur of pink hair passed between them, and without warning, a very intoxicated Ihei Hairu latched onto Ui’s right arm.

“H-Hairu?” The investigator straightened, but he didn’t push her away. Instead, he just looked at her with a neutral expression. She was also taking full advantage of bureiko, apparently. Koori felt secondhand embarrassment creep up on him into the blush on his face. God, she was clingy when she was drunk

“I can’t find Arima-san.” Hairu nudged her pink hair against Ui’s shoulder causing his blush to deepen further. She was practically purring and just witnessing it brought a blush to Kaneki’s face as well. She was gone.

Koori cleared his throat and tried to handle the situation maturely, “Is there a reason you need to-“

Ihei proved that wouldn’t be an option when she whined back, “Ui-senpai, you wouldn’t understand.”

Koori smirked and raised an eyebrow, “Oh? Wouldn’t I?”

Kaneki created distance to address Ihei more formally, “Nice to see you again, Ihei-san.”

She didn’t let go of Ui, but she did stop sinking against him. Smiling lazily, she regarded him with keen interest, “Sasaki-kun, hello. Nice to see you, too.” She finally noticed, “Ah, your hair is all white like they say.”

“Yeah . . .” he blushed in response. They hadn’t met since before his memories had returned.

“Like Arima-san,” her eyes shined.

“Yes?” Kaneki wondered if she wasn’t the only person to compare them.

“Have you seen him?” She asked hopefully as she reminded the two men of her real purpose there.

Sasaki shook his head, “Not for some time, but he’s probably by the back of the hall somewhere.”

“Ohhh?” she leaned forward towards him and practically lost her balance, but Koori caught her in time to steady her.

Kaneki finally went tomato red. “I can smell him,” he admitted quietly.

Ihei dropped Koori’s arm in an instant and gave a sweeping motion as she turned to face the crowd, “Then, by all means, lead the way.” She gestured that he do so, and, while still blushing, Haise nodded and walked in front of her.

Ui followed along as well mostly to keep an eye on his subordinate’s behavior. “You can pinpoint his location amongst three-hundred people by scent?”

“My nose kagune is very effective with detective work,” Haise touched his nose to indicate both _himself_ and his nose.

Hairu humored him with a good-natured laugh, “Ahh, he made a joke.” It was clear that she was fond of Sasaki, but the reasons behind her transparent affection were

Ui kept his lips in a line, “Hairu, no more for you.” Clearly, the joke hadn’t made sense at all, and the only reason Hairu had found it so endearing was because she was already drunk.

“It’s bonenkai, Ui, relax,” she linked her arm in his, and he nearly lost balance from her sudden and unexpected weight.

“I _am_ relaxed,” he insisted.

Sasaki smiled. Hairu Ihei was very cute. It was rare that she acted her actual age; she was young like the Quinx, but she was so feared and respected on the battlefield. When they arrived and Arima was in sight, Kaneki turned toward them and made a quick excuse, “Ah, I’m going to check on the Quinx. See you all later.” And before either could say a word, he’d disappeared in the crowd.

Ui looked ahead to see who Arima was talking to, certain that it must have had something to do with Sasaki’s sudden disappearance. “Is that Hideyoshi?”

Hairu blinked, “That’s Hideyoshi Washuu? He looks so young.”

“Hairu.”

“What?”

<><><><><><><>

“Take, you came.” About an hour following his discussion with Hide and his amusing encounter with Ui and Hairu, Arima found Hirako on the square balcony that connected to the great hall. It was the only balcony in the building, and since they were only on the fifth floor, headquarters loomed above endlessly. Only two sides could look out into the city mostly to the south. It would have made for an excellent view of Fuji on clear days were there not several buildings towering around them.

Take was leaning against the railing now, facing the building. He held the same expression as always, “Yes.” Take had come out of obligation. He didn’t much enjoy large parties; he just preferred to speak to people one on one. He’d come outside to get away from the crowd. There were mostly smokers, but the city drowned out much of the noise that was escalating inside. He’d been wanting to speak to Arima, anyway. Maybe it wasn’t his place, but the guy, for once in his life, seemed clueless. “There’s something wrong with that kid of yours.”

Arima didn’t quite understand what Hirako was saying, but before he could reply, Special Class Investigator Ui spoke up behind him. “You noticed it too, Hirako?” A pack of cigarettes were in his hand, but when his eyes met his superior’s, he began to place them back in his jacket pocket.

“Yes.”

“Koori, relax,” Arima’s tone was void of emotion either way. Still, he understood that Ui didn’t like to admit his addiction in front of his mentor even if it was obvious to everyone.

Ui tucked straight black hair behind his ear and then pulled the cigarettes out again, tapping the pack to make one slide out.

Arima shifted his weight to his other foot and crossed his arms, “His memories are unforgiving.”

“I don’t think that’s it.” Ui exhaled the smoke thoughtfully, careful of the wind. He wouldn’t make the other two suffer second-hand smoking on account of him.

“Tell me,” the reaper insisted.

“I think he’s hiding something.” The younger Special Class made sure not to look Arima in the eyes when he spoke, and instead moved to lean against the railing himself.

Hirako offered support of Koori’s statement, “I don’t know what it is, but I think so, too.”

“He tells me everything.” The words were empty and simple. To Arima, this was just the truth.

Take and Ui exchanged glances. They didn’t need words to swap notes. Both of them had, in that moment, decided that things were worse than they previously thought. Haise was affecting Arima’s infallible judgement.

“I’m late to the party.” Taishi Fura broke the silence that had fallen over the other three as he walked over to them. He was supposed to meet Ui out on the balcony for a smoke. He didn’t expect to see Take  and Kishou in tow as well. Fura pulled out his own pack of cigarettes. “I was eavesdropping, I admit.” Ui pulled out a lighter and gave it Fura to use, “Kishou, have you ever heard the expression, ‘ _love is blind_ ’?”

Arima trusted them, and he trusted Haise as well. He wasn’t used to these sorts of conflicts. Relationships were not things he took time in cultivating. He did what was necessary for work. The only person he even considered a friend was Taishi. It was true. Sasaki had just . . . changed everything. But still, what exactly were they trying to say about him? Arima was certain that if Haise ever needed anything of him he would come to him. He’d proven to Haise that he could be depended on time and time again, even when Haise didn’t understand it himself.

“I think what Taishi is saying is that even if he were up to something suspicious, you would overlook it, because you don’t _want_ to see it.” Ui took back his lighter and Taishi moved to stand beside him on the railing, effectively separating the smokers and the non-smokers in their little group.

“Why would I do that?”

The other three men collectively deflated. How was it that Arima Kishou was hailed as a genius investigator and he couldn’t even understand such simple concepts when it came to matters of the human heart?

Take attempted a different approach in the spirit of being helpful, “With his memories back, he isn’t technically Sasaki Haise any longer.” It was much easier to speak candidly with Ui and Taishi there, especially Taishi.

Ui blew smoke out over the city before meeting Kishou’s eyes, “You’re treating him as if he is the same amnesiac ghoul you trained to bend over backwards at your every whim.” His words weren’t harsh; he just felt the need to drive home the severity of the issue.

“So, Special Class Arima, if you had to choose between that mutt of yours and the CCG, what would you choose?” The four men turned to their left to see Matsuri Washuu walking over with a smug look on his face.

Arima did not even consider the implications of the question, “I’m an investigator. My loyalty lies with the Chairman and always has.” He had little respect for Matsuri, despite his accomplishments, so he would not waste energy needlessly on the man.

“Five minutes!” Someone from inside yelled and the mass of employees collectively cheered.

“Ah, the countdown is starting,” Ui put out his cigarette and began heading toward the doors to go back inside.  

Any excuse to be away from Matsuri Washuu was a good one. The other three followed after.

“Arima-san!” the half-ghoul in question ran out and grabbed his arm, still beaming after his brieg encounter with his dearest friend, “Come take a photo with me!”

Arima watched as Haise pulled him further inside, practically glowing with the smile he was wearing. The Special Class Investigator was certain he’d never actually seen Haise this happy- certainly not since his memories had come back. The others were right in thinking that something was going on, but if it made Haise this happy, what harm could there be in it?

He smiled softly, mostly with his eyes, as Haise put his phone up for a photo.

Saiko jumped in at the last second flashing “v”s with each of her hands, “V!”

Haise laughed, “Saiko, I was trying to get a nice picture!”

Arima questioned curiously, “V?”

Hirako, Taishi, and Koori stood watching through the tall windows from outside, dumbfounded.

“He has really changed,” Take observed absently.

“It’s like he’s completely forgotten he’s a ghoul.” Ui crossed his arms. With his eyes he had located Hairu through the window, so as long as he knew she wasn’t getting into trouble, he could stay where he was.

“He has. He doesn’t see him as human or ghoul any longer.” Taishi knew better. It had always been apparent, but even more-so over the last month. In all the years he had known Kishou, he’d never seen him carry the same interest for another person- not one.

“What does that mean?” Koori knew that Taishi had known Kishou the longest; he likely had the best insight concerning his subtle change.

Taishi smiled, “Isn’t it obvious? He treats him like he’s family.”

“Like a son.” Hirako agreed.

“Yeah, exactly.” Taishi clarified.

Ui’s eyes studied the picture he saw through the window. Sasaki was actually laughing, telling Arima some sort of story that Yonebashi appeared to be acting out. “He doesn’t have any family.”

Fura shrugged, “So, let him have his fun. I think Haise has been good for him in a way.”

“ _Sasaki Haise is a ghoul._ ”

“Your jealousy is showing.” Fura smiled knowingly.

Koori turned his nose up at the accusation, “I’m _not_ jealous; I’m concerned.”

“He could break him easily.” Hirako reminded them.

“I’m not talking about _that_ .” Ui insisted, mildly annoyed still with the accusation that he was actually _jealous_ of Arima’s relationship with Sasaki.

Taishi and Hirako’s eyes met and wordlessly, they exchanged notes. Hirako blinked. Taishi smirked. They understood. Ui was talking about Arima Kishou’s _heart_. How sweet.

Taishi patted Ui on the head as if her were a cute child being corrected, and Koori moved away quickly with an annoyed expression. Fura laughed before adding, “Arima will be fine. What he said to Matsuri earlier is true. I’ve known him a long time and if there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s his loyalty to his job. He’s an investigator before anything else, and that makes him the best.” Now, if you’ll excuse me, I can’t let the wife see me out here if you know what I mean.” He smiled before heading back inside.

Take headed in the same direction. “He has no qualms about addressing Sasaki’s behavior.” Hirako looked back at Ui with the same blank expression, but Koori was sure it was supposed to be comforting in some way.

Koori answered his words with a nod, and with that, Hirako disappeared inside.

Ui was skeptical. Physical pain was one thing, but if he treated Haise like a son, and Haise returned that, matters of the body meant little. Could he really trust a ghoul, one that frequently lost his mind, with something like _that_?

<><><><><>

Several people were gathered around for champagne. The crowd was small enough that they could all speak to one another and large enough that no one felt the pressure or obligation to join in the conversation.

“You know, in America, they kiss at the stroke of midnight.” Hide grinned at Akira from behind his champagne glass and even went so far as to wiggle his eyebrows. Being with Kaneki, even under the circumstances, had been just enough to help him feel more like himself again. Teasing Akira helped, too; he just wished Amon and Seidou were here as well.

“Hideyoshi, I swear to god.” She only glared back with a threat that told the others watching that  they had danced this same dance before. She had known his whereabouts for some time, but they rarely kept in touch save for an e-mail here and there. Usually Hide would initiate the conversation asking how she was specifically. She would reply with something vague. He would send her a picture or two from wherever he was visiting. Their conversations never went beyond that, but it was at least enough to earn some familiarity with her. He felt relieved when she addressed him by his name rather than _Nagachika_ or _Washuu_ . Now, he just needed to get her to call him _Hide_.

Anna spoke up from beside the members from Akira’s squad, her eyepatch still decorated in scarlet begonias, “We also sing _Auld Lang Syne_ , you know, the ‘ _go the fuck home_ ’ song you Japanese play when stores are closing for the night?”

“What?” Whether Mutsuki was surprised by the language or the random fact couldn’t be seen, but he hadn’t expected to hear either.

“No, really; it’s true.” She was the only one in the group that held no champagne glass. She wouldn’t lie for their sakes; she didn’t care who knew if she was a ghoul or not. When the clownish man beside her had tried to hand her a glass, she’d just claimed she couldn’t drink it and left it at that.

“No way.” Shirazu tried to piece together why.

“Yeah.”

Mari’s voice could be heard suddenly from beside Hiro, “Da-daa-da-da-da-da-da-dah da-da-dah-da-da-da-da-daaaaa?”

“Yeah, that one,” Anna confirmed.

“What else?” Saiko asked, curious as she purposefully moved to be beside Urie. She’d always wanted to visit America. There was good food there. She imagined otaku, like herself, were something of a commodity there. If she moved there, she’d probably be announced queen- or wait, no- _president_ of all otaku in the country. It was possible. Right now, with only three minutes left until the countdown, though, she just hoped, ridiculously enough, that she could imagine she were there and a certain someone would follow up on a certain tradition . . .

“Well, fireworks, I guess . . .” Anna trailed off. She didn’t really want the attention on her.

Hide caught on and immediately went into theatrics over how much drinking would occur over New Year’s in America.

Kaneki was watching just outside the group out of Hide’s line of vision. It was nice to be able to see Hide act like himself even if they couldn’t share in the experience together. Sasaki sighed softly. He was finally coming down from his high. Reality was settling around him like collected dust.

Hide smiled wide and stood on the table to shout, “The countdown is starting!”

“Ten! Nine! Eight!”

Mutsuki tried smiling at Ginshi, and he smiled back, but a second later, his eyes wandered away. He was smiling, but he refused to look in Tooru’s direction. A rift was dividing them and Tooru couldn’t help but think that he had been the one to put it there.

“Seven! Six! Five!”

Saiko grinned up at the man she’d been tormenting all night only to be met with two blank eyes and a grumpy expression. That was okay. She stuck out her tongue and crinkled her nose. Urie was simply someone who kept life interesting and amusing. He could be grumpy if he wanted to be. He wouldn’t be that way forever, she knew.

“Four! Three!

It was only a second, but in that brief moment, Hide and Kaneki’s eyes met again. _Promise._ Everything was going to change this year. They had died and risen from the ashes.

“Two! One! _Happy New Year!!_ ”

As the clock struck and everyone erupted into cheers, Hairu laughed, lost her balance, and tripped into the person in front of her, her lips landing, somehow, on the person’s cheek, “Arima-san?”

Ui righted her so that she could stand straight again. His touch was gentle, clearly making an effort to care for her in her inebriated state, but his tone was anything but, “No, Hairu.” She still worked underneath him. He could assign her some kind of punishment case for her reckless behavior.

Hairu blinked a few times, her lashes fluttering with the action, and instead of sounding disappointed, she simply giggled to herself, “Ui-senpai? Just as well.”

Koori wondered if he had set himself up for this kind of treatment as he ignored the blush that was finally painting his cheeks, “What does that mean? I’m taking you home.” There would be no argument.

Hairu nearly sang as she put an arm around his shoulders, “I’m Cinderella! We must run away now quickly Koori before you turn into a pumpkin!”

“Why am I the carriage?!” Koori’s blush intensified. Did she realize she’d even used his first name?

“But of course you’re the pumpkin!” she exclaimed between fits of laughter.

<><><><><>

**Omake: The After Parties**

“Akira, it’s late.” The hall had mostly cleared out, but she was still standing there by the memorial. She knew several of them, but she was staring at the faces wondering which ones had been blessed with death and which were living in the same nightmare as Seidou and Koutarou. Would she find out later that there were more? Had Aogiri made more of them half-ghouls like Seidou? Entirely against their will like Koutarou? So that they could suffer caught between two worlds like  . . . Haise?

Akira recognized the voice, but she didn’t look at him, “Arima?” She’d listen and pretend not to care. If she cared, she would only be setting herself up to be hurt, and truthfully, it was tiring.

He was right behind her, so close, but never touching her, “I’m heading home now. We can save money on the cab fare if we go together.”

“So frugal.” she looked up at him behind heavy eyelids. Yes, she’d been drinking. No, she didn’t need a damn chaperone.

Their ride in the taxi was silent.

When they arrived at the apartment, Arima invited himself in only to be met with a white hissing ball of fur. Akira smiled as she locked her door and kicked off her heels, “Maris Stella is _very_ protective of me. She knows you’re bad news.”

the Special Class investigator didn’t know what to say to that. He felt something like embarrassment from the stark contrast in behavior from the cat towards himself versus Akira.

Akira walked around him and picked up Maris Stella, whom immediately began to purr loudly. She walked over and sat on her bed, “I’m home, Arima. . . . Thanks. You can go.” She could have moved out of her small apartment by now, but she never did. This one held memories. Besides, if her address never changed, it meant that the others would always know where to find her.

Without providing context, Arima said quietly, “They’re giving him a trial.”

“Yeah, I know.” Context wasn’t needed.

Arima looked up from the cat to look into Akira’s violet eyes, “It’s entirely due to Haise.”

“Yes. . . I know . . .” Couldn’t he see that she didn’t want to talk about it? She just wanted him to go home. She wanted to suffer in peace. Alone.

Arima continued, not for his own sake, but for Haise’s. “He called you his mother.”

“What?”

Arima went on, “I never mentioned it before, but . . . Haise . . . a little over a year ago now . . . He likened me to a father and you to a mother.”

“Arima, I-” she felt something sick rise up from her throat. She couldn’t tell if she was in pain physically or emotionally.

“I’m sure, even now, he-”

Akira’s vision went blurry with tears, and, quite suddenly, they were falling without restraint, “Just leave!”

Arima did. He didn’t apologize or say goodbye. He just left.

Maris Stella was purring louder in Akira’s arms as she cried. Akira looked down into her face and buried her face in her white fur, “He doesn’t understand. I already know. _I already know._ ”

The cat meowed in response.

_I never thought it would come to this._

<><><><><>

“An-em-o-ni!” Anna appeared behind Kaneki outside the CCG headquarters nearly an hour after the party had ended.

“A-Anna?” he hadn’t expected to see her, or anyone for that matter. What was she still doing here so late? And without Hide?

“So, how was the party?” She was smiling now, clearly in a better mood than what was typical.

“Long.” It had taken all of his energy. He couldn’t even bring himself to go home, because he was sure that the Quinx were staying up to see the first dawn together. He felt like he needed to recharge before being around others again.

Anna only agreed with a knowing smile, “It was, wasn’t it?”

“Where is Hide?”

Anna knew, but she shrugged in response, “Eh, we had a falling out earlier.”

Haise played along, “It was strange, seeing him like that . . . It didn’t feel like Hide at all.” He was trying to test her. Had she been watching, somehow, when they’d met in the side room outside the hall? Did she know that they’d met after Hide had brushed him off in front of the Quinx?

“Flowers _do_ wilt, you know?”

It didn’t appear like she knew, but her words left Kaneki feeling uncomfortable anyway. Thinking of Hide as a wilting flower felt disturbing. He was anything but, right? “I read his files,” Kaneki offered. It meant that he knew a little bit more about her as well. which was still in the area of absolutely nothing.

“Ohhh, interesting. Like, everything? How did you even get access to them?”

Haise wasn’t stupid. He knew she was asking for reasons that would likely get him in trouble. He avoided answering the question altogether. Instead, he focused on what he had read, “What he did . . . what you did . . . Sometimes life forces us to do things we never thought we were capable of. . . . Christmas Day, he said he wanted to change Japan.”

“Hm.” Her expression fell completely and the entire atmosphere was as cold as the winter air around them.

“So, he will.”

Anna frowned, and finding herself unable to read the expression on the other half-ghoul’s face, she decided to switch the subject, “What is your plan for Serpent?” She wasn’t asking because she felt guilty or anything. She had to know if Kaneki would try to help him escape or something, so that she could talk him out of it.

The question appeared to spark life back into the investigator, because his eyes were suddenly expressive once more and concern was written in his features, “Nishiki-senpai? I don’t know. I don’t know what I _can_ do. He has three months. I understand what happened now is because of what Torso did to Kimi, but- His situation is still not good.”

“Kimi?”

Kaneki realized his slip. No one had made the connection between the human in a coma in the CCG hospital and Nishiki, and it needed to stay that way. “No one.” If word were to get out, it could mean that the CCG would have a weapon to use against Nishiki, and there was no telling what would come from hanging Kimi’s life in the balance. Nishiki clearly still cared for her. Beyond not wanting anything to happen to Kimi, he really just didn't feel comfortable with people being manipulated like that. He wouldn’t put it past the CCG to try- not for a second.

“Well, he’s a ghoul, so he was _born_ into a poor situation. Isn’t that what we do, spend our lives trying to get out of it?” She smiled cruelly, “Oh, that’s right. I forgot. _You_ were born _human_.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t understand.” Kaneki insisted.

Her expression remained flat, “I guess so.” She was being purposefully cruel.

Sasaki chose his words carefully, “Hide did not feel like he was on my side today.”

“Then his acting was very convincing. I wonder just how many times he’s lied to you without you having noticed.”

Kaneki considered her words like one might consider a new taste- he tried to like it, but he ended up only wishing he could take back ever having put it in his mouth in the first place.

Anna laughed, “Oh my God, your face.”

Kaneki watched her a moment, trying to understand what had just transpired, but he quickly gave up. She so rarely ever made sense, and sometimes, it was just clear how utterly empty she was. “I’m going home.” He didn’t like seeing that emptiness in others; it felt too _familiar_.

“Goodnight!”

Kaneki didn’t answer back, but she took no offense to it. Left to her own devices, Anna stretched and turned in the direction of the hotel she’d followed Hide to earlier. She wouldn’t be able to find him, so she’d have to wait inside until he came out. Why did the human have to make her job difficult? It wouldn’t hurt taking one night off. He was probably just sitting there brooding and thinking so hard he was getting wrinkles in his face anyway.

She pulled her coat closer around her and removed her eyepatch and stuffed it, flowers, pins, and all, into her purse. Her brown eyes lit with mischief.

“Kimi, huh?”

She’d been very good for the party; she could balance things out by sending this information up the totem pole. What were the chances anything could come out of a mere first name anyway?

<><><><><

Hide didn’t go home, or rather, he didn’t go back to the same hotel room he’d been staying in thus far with Anna. In fact, that night, he didn’t even go to the same hotel.  He didn't know just how well she could smell him, and there was no telling what she’d do if she did. He wanted to be left alone, even from his shadow. He sat in the hotel’s sento. Despite it being late, he’d expected at least a few people there on New Year’s Eve. However, here it was, nearly four in the morning, and he had found himself alone. All the better. After washing up, he moved to sit in the steaming bath.

He recalled everything that had happened that night.

He was alone, but he still couldn’t allow himself to cry.

He’d finally been able to speak with Kaneki again and he’d- he’d just pushed him away. He hadn’t expected Kaneki to say that he understood. He hadn’t expected him to say that they needed to work together. He hadn’t expected him to say that he knew, he knew the things he’d done since they’d parted. It just wasn’t possible.

Unless Anna had told him.

But she wouldn’t.

There were things she could have gained from telling Ken the things he’d done, but she respected Hide. Even if she were clearly his grandfather’s little watch dog, she did have her own way of caring for him. What had happened in America and France- India, especially, she wouldn’t have told him.

He remembered the conversation he had with Arima.

“There’s something wrong with him.”

“Wrong? How?” Arima was attentive, but Hide noticed that his expression, however unchanged, didn’t appear to be that concerned. He looked like he was hearing something he’d heard a hundred times over?

“I don’t know. We spoke before but he was . . . It was like he’d lost touch with reality.” Was that it? Hide struggled to put his finger on it. It was like he wasn’t seeing reality, but he wasn’t disillusioned, either. “Not just that, but he-”

“He cares for you Hideyoshi.” Arima would not forget the night he’d cried at hearing the news that his best friend was alive. That night had changed everything, and not just for Kaneki.

Hide wasn’t quite following the investigator’s line of thought, “Yes, but-”

Arima clarified just how well he understood the situation, “And neither of you are able to act on that, so it is very difficult for him.”

“I get that. He didn’t even appear particularly concerned with that either. It was something else. the way he spoke and looked; it was like he wasn’t quite himself. Haven’t you noticed?” Hide wasn’t quite sure what he was implying himself any longer. He was just frightened. It was impossible for Kaneki to know about him. Still, it was shocking that he was simply agreeing with staying away from him. Kaneki had to be up to something else. He must have been plotting already something to do to get them back together or to _fix_ what was beyond repair and impossibly broken. That’s what Kaneki did. He was a good person, who would do what he could to make things better, _even_ if it meant himself suffering.

Arima was a voice of reason, “You haven’t spoken with him in nearly four years. Isn’t that right?”

“Yeah . . .” Hide didn’t want to listen to logic in that moment.

“So? Could it be that he is different? It’s natural for people to change over time. Were you expecting him to remain the same as he was three years ago after having gone through what he’s been through?”

_Yes . . . ?_

“I don’t know.” He had always been the same with Hide. He had always treated Hide the same, and when he didn’t, it was clear that he was lying. Hide could read him. Hide could understand him, but now-

Hide sunk deeper into the steaming hot water of the sento until it was up to his ears.

_What am I supposed to do?_

_I have to, Ken-I’m sorry._

_I have to keep going like this even if it means that you and I-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The French:  
> "Are you fluent?"  
> “I only speak a little.”  
> “Your pronunciation is very good.”  
> “Thank you. How did you learn?”  
> “I picked some up from my mother and then kind of studied on my own . . .”  
> “Isn’t it early for kagami biraki?”  
> “Oh, he likes to eat the mochi when it is still sweet.” “He loves sweet things.” “Don’t you, Kuki?”  
> HUGE THANKS to Tako and her friend for translating the French! 
> 
> *Komorebi: -Japanese word that can't be translated to English -"the sunlight through the leaves of the trees"
> 
> Ah, so I have been a member of Ao3 for exactly a year now. Wow. Thank you all so much for reading and supporting my work. I am always nervous to post any new chapter of this series, because I work with so many characters, but you are all still supportive. Thank you all so much for sticking with me for so long. I hope you can enjoy this even when my writing is lazy. OTL Thank you!


	26. Spiral Downward - Dec 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of you are still interested in reading this, thank you. I was really fed up with this chapter- that I've been working on for months off and on- so I promised myself I would post whatever I had today. I hope it will suffice. I want to give a big thank you to optimustaud for being amazing and talking through this development with me back months ago. ilu  
> Hopefully, you all may find insight into what has broken Hide. Thank you for your pateince. Comments are much appreciated.

Kaneki stared at the manilla envelope on his desk from the somewhat awkward position he was lying in on his bed. His legs were bent at the knee over the side of the bed, but he was lying on his side with one arm beneath his head and the other arm lying over and around him so that his other hand rested on the small of his back. It had been kind of sore since Christmas Day, but he hadn’t used his kagune or anything since then. There was no bruising there and, from what he could tell, there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. His eyes blinked a few times out of exhaustion, but the manilla envelope never left his field of vision. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been staring at it or, even in just the last six days, how many times he’d repeated this very same action- lying on his bed to stare at a harmless manilla envelope. What damage could it do beyond a papercut?

So much.

And that’s why he hadn’t opened it- only stared at it- for six days now. Six days? It hadn’t even been a week since he’d seen Tsukiyama and Chie had given him the envelope containing Hide’s past.

Tsukiyama Shuu.

He’d changed. He went from lying to him outright, manipulating him and using him all in the conquest for gluttony. He had been driven by his greed to kidnap, threaten, and even hurt others without any remorse. No, the change hadn’t been immediate, but it had been . . .

He’d been so kind to Hinami. That’s what he noticed first. It wasn’t the condo he purchased and allowed them to stay in. It wasn’t the clothing he purchased him. It wasn’t even the loyalty he pledged him. What had stood out above all other things was simply how he treated Hinami. He wanted to think even those actions had been selfish. But-

His mind had wandered. Of course it had. Every time he found himself staring down the envelope, he’d ended up distracted by some other thought in order to keep himself from actually opening it. He wanted to know. He wanted to know so badly.

But he was scared.

What if something even bigger than time separated himself from Hide now? What If they’d always been separated, but he’d been too ignorant and naïve to ever realize it?

No, he couldn’t open the envelope. He didn’t deserve to. After all, he’d killed a human. Like he’d killed ghouls. They were the same now; he treated them the same- not like before where he, despite being one himself, only killed ghouls. And he didn’t just kill them; he ate them. Just like _that_. And he planned on doing it again or . . . something like that . . . even knowing-

Because he had to. He had to _change._ What other option did he have?

**Just enjoy it, Kaneki-kun.**

That was an option. Was it really necessary for him to torture himself over a decision he’d already made? He did that so many times in the past, and he recognized that now. He could see that easily. He needed to break the habit.

He didn’t have to enjoy it, but he could forgive and accept it, right?

He could hear her laughter in the back of his mind. **You’re doing this for them, right?**

Of course he was.

**Well, aren’t you?**

“Yes, yes I am.”

**For them?**

“No, no I’m not.”

He’d effectively distracted himself again, hadn’t he?

An hour? It was the times he felt trapped in self-hatred that were the longest. He fell too easily into the habit of punishing himself. It came in cycles, in waves, and it settled over him like a security blanket. His meditation on the reasons why he deserved death were like a long and refreshing nap.

Kaneki sat up in the bed, still watching the envelope.

He needed to visit Touka and everyone at :re. He needed to go, but it would mean doing _that_ again. What would be the best option here? Read the contents of the envelope and then go to the party? Go to the party and then read what was waiting inside that manilla paper?

Read half now and half later?

Ridiculous. This was stupid. He was being irrational. He’d just read it when he got back. Today for sure, though- no matter how tired he was. Today.

Eyes floated over to the clock again. He should go.

He pulled open the drawer of his nightstand and grabbed the tourniquet and the quinque knife. With a sigh, he stepped into his shower and sat down. He tried to focus on seeing Touka and the others again. Maybe she would know more about Hinami since Ayato was with Aogiri as well? Maybe not? He’d need to apologize to Nishio, too, if he was there. He hoped Yomo would be there. He had questions about Uta, Iitori, and Nico.

He looked down at his severed foot.

Hide. Touka. Arima. The Quinx. Tsukiyama. Akira. All of them.

What would they say?

He smiled bitterly.

<><><><><><><> 

The ring of the bell announced a new customer, but before Touka could yell at Nishio for not locking the door, she recognized the cerulean haired ghoul standing in front of the door in all of his burned velvet suit glory.

Her eyes told him she was being cautious, and her tone told him that no matter how pathetic he looked or felt, she was not one to easily forgive past transgressions. “No one invited you.”

The words didn’t roll off of Tsukiyama like they likely would have in the past. Instead, he simply frowned and took a few nervous steps forward as he attempted his usual dramatic gestures, “You wound me, Kirishima. I only intended to stop by a moment.”

After seeing his hair, his ridiculous fucking suit, and his- is that _humble_ \- expression, she finally noticed how incredibly sickly he looked. His cheeks were hollow. His eyes were sunken. His lips and skin lacked color. And the suit . . . His clothing had always been tailored to fit him so well, but his clothing was currently hanging off of him. She didn’t ask what was wrong with him, because she frankly didn’t give a shit. She did, however briefly, hope that neither Kaneki nor Hinami had seen the Gourmet like this.

Tsukiyama felt her eyes on him and he blinked, but didn’t shrink back. It felt like Kirishima was looking at him for the first time. “It’s about Kaneki-kun.”

“What about him?” Touka returned to cleaning the cappuccino machine.

“His memories have returned.” Tsukiyama leaned against the bar and watched her curiously.

She didn’t miss a beat, “I know.”

Tsukiyama blinked, having no trouble in showing his bewilderment, “Well, if you know, then why haven’t you-?” He stopped mid-question.

She noticed and set down the rag she’d been using in order to observe him with her full attention, “Why haven’t I what?” His expression wasn’t one he typically wore. Even if it had been quite some time since she’d seen the guy, it couldn’t have been possible that he’d changed so much.

“Never mind.” Tsukiyama felt her eyes on him. He wondered if she, too, knew about Kaneki’s new family. It didn’t put the half-ghoul in the best position; he understood that. Still, what he didn’t understand was why everything had to be so  . . . separated . . . segregated . . . selective.

She went back to cleaning, “He’s made his choice.”

Tsukiyama nodded, “Yes, he has . . .”

“You don’t agree with it.” She wasn’t questioning it. Normally, she wouldn’t care about the Gourmet's bloody opinions but at the moment, they concerned Kaneki, someone who had touched both their lives . . . someone they’d both risked their lives for. She was at least open to ideas.

“It’s not what he _really_ wants,” and of course, with those words, the blue-haired ghoul gave a sweeping gesture and his fingers laced together over his heart.

She hung the rags to dry and began untying her apron as she spoke, “You don’t get to decide what he really wants, Shittyama.”

“He-” Tsukiyama felt defensive. He wasn’t trying to make decisions for Kaneki; he knew that Ken was steadfast once he’d decided something. He had learned that the hard way. “Maybe it is because he thinks he doesn’t have a place to come home to.”

“He can always come here. He knows that.” she shrugged and walked around from behind the bar.

He didn’t look at her, “You’re sure he will come, even if he wants to?”

She stood in front of him, “We have to trust him. At least, that’s what _I’m_ doing.

Tsukiyama blinked. Nearly three years? The Kirishima girl had grown so much.

“If you intend to get in his way, I can’t imagine it would end well for you seeing as how he’s a ghoul investigator now.”

“I . . . Nevermind. This is pointless.” He felt kind of sick discussing the thought that Kaneki would actually betray him in some way.

“Took the words right out of my mouth.”

Just as Tsukiyama left, Yomo appeared from behind the curtain that separated the small kitchen from the rest of the dining area. “I think he has changed.” He’d been listening to all of it as he’d cleaned in the back.

“Tch, I guess, but he’s still selfish. He can’t be making decisions about what Kaneki wants on Kaneki’s behalf. That’s no different from before.”

Yomo nodded in silent agreement and returned to preparing for the party by pulling down a few wine glasses and cleaning them to remove the dust.

<><><><><><><> 

It was nearly ten at night, and all of the blinds were closed, but, from standing in the doorway, he could see through the glass window that they were there. After taking a deep breath and ignoring the ‘Closed’ sign that was hanging in front of him, he gripped the handle and pushed open the door.

“Pardon the intrusion,” he blushed suddenly when he felt everyone’s eyes on him. What the hell was he shy for?

Touka. Nishio. Yomo. Uta. None of them said anything.

Kaneki removed and hung his coat on the rack by the door. Beneath it was a plain, black turtleneck under a simple vest. He turned around to face them again and fixed the cuff of his sweater, “So, Touka, about-“

She observed him silently, her glare warning him that the next words out of his mouth had better be the right ones. “You don’t just pull a girl aside and kiss her like that!”

Uta blinked, amused, “Eh, you kissed Touka-chan?”

Kaneki moved forward, waving his arms in front of himself defensively, “What? No, I mean- not like that!”

“Damn it, Kaneki, it was enough! And then you just took off!” She walked around the counter to speak directly to him.

Now just in front of him, Kaneki fiddled with his hands awkwardly, “Ah-ah, sorry about that I-“

“I don’t want your excuses!” Her hands were on her hips.

He visibly winced and then opened his eyes timidly, convinced he had just stepped back in time, “I’m _sorry?_ ”

“Or your apologies!” she argued back.

He smiled, “I-”

“I don’t care how glad you are to see me- I-“ the blush on her cheeks was visible to everyone.

“Touka?”

Their eyes met, and he realized hers were brimming with tears. He smiled back at her.

Nishio’s voice interrupted the moment, “She was saving her virginity for her girlfriend.”

It was Kaneki’s turn to blush, “G-girlfriend?”

“She wants pussy.” His ex-sempai clarified.

“Nishio, I will end you!” She snapped back at him.

“Wha-“ Kaneki looked to Nishio, confused.

“That Kosaka girl.” He added.

Kosaka. Kosaka. Right, she had been Touka’s friend from high school. She’d frequented Anteiku as often as Hide had, “You’re dating Kosaka Yoriko?”

Touka gave Nishio a glare and Uta sat up in his seat. She frowned and crossed her arms before waving the idea away, “Not exactly. . . ”

Kaneki blinked, unsure of what to make of ‘ _not exactly_ ’ dating someone.

“What?” she warned in her tone alone for him to let it go.

He was defensive once more, “No-nothing! Th-that’s great! I mean, good for you!”

“Kaneki, I can hear your boner panting from over here.” Nishio quipped.

“What?” Kaneki only appeared more confused.

Yomo finally spoke, “Don’t give Kaneki a hard time.”

Nishio took the opportunity, “Trust me. That’s the _last_ thing I’d want.”

Two sets of eyes glared at him this time and he shrugged.

The half-ghoul shook his head and tried again, “I’m happy for you, Touka.”

Touka turned her back to him, “We are not dating. I haven't spoken to her in years.”

“Oh . . .” Awkward silence followed. Kaneki didn’t know what to say to that. It was actually pretty sad if he thought on it, but he understood why Touka had made that decision.

Nishio broke the silence, “She just stalks her every once in awhile and plays peeping tom outside her window.”

Touka snapped at him, her voice lethal, “Nishio! Shit for brains!”

Kaneki laughed, _genuinely laughed_ , and seconds later he felt tears of joy slide down his face.

Touka took a break from beating on Nishio to cross over and finally embrace him.

Kaneki returned it and only cried harder. He hadn’t expected such warmth and acceptance coming here. He hadn’t expected it to feel like he’d never left. He couldn’t properly express his gratitude towards all of them.

There was only one thing missing from this picture, “Wh-where’s Hinami? The manager?”

Touka pulled away, and without looking into his eyes, moved back to preparing his drink. She’d let someone else explain because she couldn’t quite follow the reasons for Hinami’s actions anyway. It still hurt sometimes that Hinami had not come to _her_ first- she had not depended on her big sister first.

“They’re missing?” he searched the expressions of the others.

“Tch, that shithole you work for tell you nothing?” Despite Touka’s words, she poured the hot water patiently.

“What?” The CCG had been involved how? Kaneki had no idea.

“The manager was captured by Aogiri after the CCG raided Anteiku.” Yomo clarified solemnly.

“Oh,” Kaneki responded awkwardly. He’d not been allowed to see those files, and he hadn’t looked since he’d gotten his memories back. He was being insensitive again.

“Hinami-she-” It was Touka. Their eyes met, “Apparently, after you left, she joined Aogiri.”

“What?” Kaneki’s eyebrows knit into confusion once more and his tone held just a hint of desperation.

“I don’t know why; I just know it was her own decision.” She walked around the counter again and handed him the coffee mug which Kaneki carefully and gratefully accepted.

“What?” Haise’s eyes went wide. This was his fault.

Touka took no pity on him, but her tone was understanding, “She could have come here. Back then, and since . . . but she never has. That’s her choice.” It hurt all of them.

He searched Touka’s face for answers, “Why Aogiri?”

And, she automatically snapped back, “I just said I don’t know!”

Sasaki didn’t apologize but he did go quiet.

Uta broke the silence, “Renji-kun, please tell me you aren’t drinking coffee all night. This is a party. Itorii is on her way with wine.”

All eyes were on Yomo, but he only blushed slightly, “Maybe one glass would be fine . . .”

<><><><><><> 

“Uta-san, may I ask you something of a favor?” Kaneki entered the back kitchen where Uta was using a knife to dig something out of his fingernails. He was hoping that he would find him alone; this would likely be his only chance.

“What’s that?” Uta smiled at him as he always had in the past. It made Kaneki feel like he was slowly being devoured by something almost sensual. His smile had always been somehow tempting in a rather eerie sort of way.

“I received your gift,” Kaneki leaned against the island counter so that he was directly across from Uta.

“I was just returning it to its original owner.” Uta finished his work and tossed the knife in the sink after thoughtfully inspecting his fingernails.

“Ah, well, about that-“ Kaneki pulled the mask from an interior pocket in his jacket  and held it in both his hands. He had accomplished so much with the mask. And, he  had lost so much as well. This mask belonged to Kaneki Ken, and he would never quite be Kaneki Ken ever again.

“Hm?”

“I can’t accept it.” He put his hands out and offered the mask to Uta.

“Really, now?” He did not take it, but he did look at it instead of meeting Kaneki’s eyes. Uta had been rather proud of it; he appreciated how well Kaneki had worn it as well.

Kaneki spoke carefully, “But I wanted to . . . commission a new one.”

“I already have something in mind.” Uta smiled wider, his eyes joining in, and Kaneki tried not to feel nervous. He did not fear Uta, not really, but there was always a part of himself that would feel somewhat suspicious of him no matter how much of an ally and friend he pretended to be.

He laughed, pulling his old mask back after realizing Uta wouldn't take it, “Hahaha, really?”

Uta nodded, “Yes, and I think you’ll like it.”

<><><><><><><> 

Urie watched with binoculars from a block away. There was a face there that he recognized- one that he hadn’t seen in the coffee shop yet, but one he had seen on the battlefield. If his memory served him right, Serpent could be seen sitting inside at the bar with a smirk on his face while the head waitress yelled at him.

_Jackpot._

One ghoul wasn’t enough to take down the whole cafe, but it still meant he would be helping in apprehending a dangerous ghoul.

He pulled out his phone and hit a button for auto-dial.

“Rank 2 Urie?” Matsuri was on the line.

“Associate Special Class, I have confirmed that one of them at the coffee shop First Class Haise frequents is a ghoul- Serpent.”

“Good. Keep tracking Serpent. I’ll send Hirako Squad there.”

“But what about-?” This was Urie’s victory, wasn’t it? Wouldn’t he get credit for this?

“Remember what I said, Urie: don’t play hero. You won’t be commended for going outside of orders or for working on your own and withholding information. Hirako Squad will be dispatched. Keep following Serpent.”

“Fine. If he is who we think he is, then it shouldn’t take long before we have evidence.”

Silence answered him. He looked at his phone to see that Matsuri Washuu had already hung up.

<><><><><><><> 

“‘Evening.” She greeted pleasantly before getting to business, “That Kuki child called in a ghoul- probably to Matsuri- while he was watching the cafe.” While holding her phone between her ear and her shoulder, Anna twirled the umbrella in her hands so that the design underneath spun. There were approaching rain clouds, but it actually hadn’t rained at all yet. On her eyepatch hung violet colored sweet pea.

“Which ghoul?” Tsuneyoshi had clearly been woken up from the call, and that only gave Anna a brilliant smile.

“He said he identified Serpent.”

“Serpent? Hm, a vigilante? It can have value if used properly. Only put up a fight. Keep that half-ghoul’s trust.”

“Got it!” She hung up and smiled at the screen of her phone. She hadn’t fought anyone in over a month and now she’d get to go up against the Hirako squad. It sounded interesting, at least. She dialed Sasaki’s phone number.

Kaneki answered, “Hello?”

“You’re getting sloppy.”

“What?” He paused, “Anna?” He waited only a beat, “How did you get my phone number?”

“You’re being followed.” She supplied.

“By you?” Kaneki snapped back slightly more aggressive than he’d meant to.

Anna watched as the lights in cafe :re turned out and the lights upstairs were turned on. She turned her back to the building and began walking in the direction of the raven haired Quinx, “Your ghoul friend in the glasses is going to be targeted.”

“Nishiki? What?” Kaneki immediately began checking the subway map above the door in the empty car he’d been riding back. He wouldn’t make it back in time on the train; he would have to take a taxi. But even then-

“I’m going to take care of it. For Hide- not you. Hide asked me to. I think Hirako Squad will be involved. You shouldn’t be. You’ve fought alongside some of them, right? They’ll recognize you. You plan on defecting now?”

“N-No.” She was speaking too fast. He couldn’t argue that she was wrong.

“Then go home where you _should_ be. I’ll do what I can.” She tried to sound more serious and less excited with the last line.

Kaneki spoke his first thoughts, “You can’t let them take him.”

Anna had seen the way he’d laughed with the people inside the cafe. After a moment, she spoke convincingly, “I’ll do my best, Anemone.”

<><><><><><><> 

Now home once more, Kaneki quickly went about the business of reattaching the anklet, eating, and retching onto the tiled shower floor. It wasn’t that he felt disgusted with what he was doing; it was that he felt _nothing_. The acceptance of his new habit was more sickening than the act itself. He rinsed the damage away with water and watched as it disappeared down the drain.

_I should be helping Nishiki._

**Why? What did he ever do for you?**

_He’s not a bad guy. He-_

**He nearly killed your dear best friend- and you- twice.**

_But he-_

**He preys on the weak, and now, he’s the weak one. It’s the way of things.**

_“You plan on defecting now?”_

Anna’s words rang in his ear. She was right. No amount of masks could cover his fighting style or even his kagune for that matter. Hirako would know or at least have suspicion. In turn, he also hoped Hirako wasn’t hurt or Kuramoto- any of them.

He needed to distract his thoughts. If Nishiki made it out of this, he’d have to help him then; he could tell him where to go and how to hide- something. He just hoped he escaped this evening.

_“You’re getting sloppy.”_

_“You’re being followed.”_

Why? Who in the CCG suspected him? Could he really be sure it wasn’t Anna herself?

Haise’s thoughts sickened him once more and he ran to the bathroom to throw up, but there was nothing left in his stomach. He splashed water on his face over the sink and walked into his bedroom and sat on the edge of his bed facing his desk. He’d promised himself he’d do this _now_. He was tired, sure, but he couldn’t put it off any longer. He stood slightly to reach for the envelope and then fell back on the bed with it in his hands. It was heavy. Hori was a master of her craft; he shouldn’t have expected any less.

“Since I’ve been  . . . gone,” How else could he say it? “This is where you’ve been?” He pushed back the brad and opened the envelope, reached inside, and pulled everything out at once and sat up as he laid it across his bed. On top was a single, loose piece of cardstock paper. It was Hide’s profile for his position within the CCG. His photo was in the top right in color- and without thinking, Kaneki touched it thoughtfully with the index finger of his right hand, his middle and ring falling soon after to caress the printed image.

He wasn’t smiling. Kaneki frowned.

His eyes appeared empty and shallow. Sasaki wiped his thumb over them.

His hair was brown- a different style- shorter in front and longer on the edges that framed his face.

Neither of them were children anymore. He closed his eyes and remembered seeing him there, with a smile, in the sewers. Hide wasn’t this still photograph on this page.

His eyes narrowed as he began to read the now complete profile. The basic information was the same and from there, the information he already knew of his best friend was accurate such as the birthdate and what-not. From there, it listed trainings, certifications, licenses, former titles, achievements, involvement in certain missions, places he’d been stationed, and his complete work history in list form. The lists were _long_ and the profile went on to the back side of the card stock.

How was all of this possible in three years? Unless it hadn’t been three years but . . . longer?

Across from each of the certifications and licenses, missions, and stations were years. Kaneki scanned for the earliest date flipping the thick single sheet front to back again - _eight years ago_. No, there was something even earlier- _fifteen years ago._

 

**Sunlit Garden - EXPELLED - XXXX**

 

The Garden? He’d heard things about it, but he’d never actually looked into it. It was some kind of training program for children funded by the CCG to prepare them for- No, that was just a lie. 

“The Garden creates child soldiers,” he whispered aloud as he stared at the three words followed by the year. If this was true, then Hide had left the Garden, met him, and then started school with him in that same year.

_Hide . . ._

Hide had attended the Garden before he’d met him, because he was a Washuu. He’d been born a Washuu. He’d known about and possibly been around ghouls all his life! Had he been living a double life of some sort? Was their friendship a lie? Was-

_Stop. He would never! He wouldn’t-_

**Are you so sure about that, Kaneki-kun?**

_Yes. Hide is precious to me, and I’m-I’m important to him- as a friend- not anything else! He wouldn’t lie to me!_

**But he _did_ lie to you. You’re holding the evidence right here in your hands.**

Ken stopped arguing, and, surprisingly, so did she.

He started to relax when, other than those two dates, everything else was from the last five years. It seemed he’d joined after Kaneki had disappeared. That’s why he’d been there that night in the sewers and he’d known he’d be fighting Arima. All of those things made more sense. He didn’t take on his current title until after that mission, though.

He’d become the Minister of Foreign Relations and had been sent on his first mission to Mumbai, India. Haise’s eyes widened at the other places he’d been- Canada, America, France, Spain, the UK, and soon he’d be stationed in South Korea.

His certifications and licenses were all over the place: arms, CPR and medical, driver’s, pilot’s, languages, bomb technician, etc. The half-ghoul couldn’t believe his eyes. How could one person manage so much? This wasn’t fake, was it? Really, maybe if anyone could manage it, Hide could, but this was beyond outrageous. How could one person learn so much in so little time?

And then it dawned on him.

Nearly all of these had minimum age requirements. It meant Hide could have been studying for them for a long time and then only needed to take the tests . . . So really, these dates meant little.

“Have you really been lying to me all this time?”

Kaneki felt tears sting his eyes, “Like I lied to you?” He threw the paper like a frisbee and it hit the wall fast and fell like a feather to the floor. He fell back, flat on the bed and stared at the ceiling through blurred vision.

“We never trusted each other.” He wanted to vomit again, but having already emptied his stomach, nothing would come up if he tried. “We never did.” His wet eyes fell to a file folder that read, in Hori’s handwriting, ‘ _First Assignment: Operation Mumbai_ ’. He could barely handle reading Hide’s profile. Could he really accept whatever was in that file?

He’d try. Maybe he could get through just this one tonight and go through the next place Hide had been stationed tomorrow or something. Kaneki gathered the files and carefully slid them back into the envelope- leaving out only the profile on cardstock still somewhere on the floor and the ‘ _First Assignment: Operation Mumbai_ ’ file. After setting the envelope back on his desk, he pulled out his glasses, pulled back the covers, and got comfortable before opening the file.

Kaneki read with a finger pressed lightly to the page, gliding down as his eyes scraped at the words on the page and caused their horrific reality to bleed, soak, and drip from the white paper as if the process of merely reading the document forced into existence the meaning and experience behind them.

  * _Ordered to locate civilian survivors and dispose of ghoul survivors_
  * _Squad 7-  Kapur, Jones, Salin, Malik, and myself- entered slums at 17:00 hours_
  * _Lighting limited and fading fast_
  * _Administered order to Squad 7 to check pulse of all visible person’s for civilians or ghouls in hiding_
  * _Encountered civilian roughly 18:30 hours that attempted escape_



 

_Hide . . . just what do these words mean?_

 

<><><><><><><><><>

“Squad 7- Using extreme caution, check the pulse of each person for any survivors. Remember, the civilians _don’t_ trust us. Verify you’re handling a ghoul before returning any kind of attack. Otherwise, use all resources to restrain.” Hide could not feel pride in how easily leadership came to him. He’d always _played_ the follower; he liked getting along with others. Since he had been assigned his new position as Minister of Foreign Relations, he’d basically become cursed with the power and control gifted by the Washuu name. He was controlled by his grandfather, but to most others, he was considered an authority figure- someone to be followed- a leader.

A series of responses from his squad followed all affirming their new commands. It would take much longer, but if it meant saving a life then it was worth it.

The streets of the slums had become open graves and the stench of death took him back to Tokyo sewers. But, this smell was different. The sun and the humidity worked nature’s wonders on the corpses around him and the scent of rot and decay weighed down like a heavy curtain around the five-hundred and thirty-five acres of the slums.

Hide bent down to check the pulse of a woman who lay face down in the dirt. She wasn’t moving, but there was a possibility she was still alive because he couldn’t see the look of death in her eyes. Hide wasn’t a religious person by any means, but there was certainly something that left a person after they died- call it a soul, a spirit- whatever. Nothing existed in the eyes of the dead and such things could not be be faked.

Hide remembered the first pair of dead eyes he’d seen. He’d been ten years old when he’d watched her life slip away in a silent gasp.

No pulse. No sign of life. He moved on to the next corpse. And then the next.

It wasn’t possible.

It just wasn’t possible that all of these men, women, and children, had all been ghouls. There probably hadn’t been any warning at all. He was slowly realizing now that the only reason it was being bombed was to quickly level the destruction of property and instantly aid in the cover-up of what had really happened here.

He was convinced he would find no one alive, but he kept checking. Why had he even put up a fight against Bhatt? So many had already been killed.

Hide sighed and checked the next person. Even if his search only saved one life, then it would be worth it to have tried.

<><><><><><> 

Hide snapped at the words he’d just heard, “You’re going to bomb the entire slum?! That’s nearly a million people! This is a serious strategic mistake. There is more at risk here than simply the lives of-”

“This is war,” the man, sitting behind the wide desk with a smirk that could be labeled as nothing short of sinister,  cut him off. His name was Bhatt, and he was the one placed in charge of the CCG India Branch.

And, in Hide’s honest opinion, he was nothing but a government dog doing work for the corrupt. But, Hide had little evidence. Again, with what he had just been told, he founded the basis of his hatred for the man entirely on the assumption that his loyalties lay only where money was rewarded.

“Not all of them are ghouls!” he did not hide his rage. Hide did not fear Bhatt like most men did. He was large, tall, and had the eyes of a snake, but Hide knew he was nothing more than human. And humans, like ghouls, all had weaknesses.

Bhatt flipped the knife he’d been holding into the wood of his desk so that it stood straight up. He pulled it out and looked up into Hide’s wild brown eyes with a thin smile, “But enough of them are.” Nicks in his desk could be seen where he had previously landed his knife. Apparently, it was simply a nasty way to pass the time for him. Either that, or he was attempting to intimidate Hide. Hide barely cared.

Hide took a deep breath as he analyzed the level of empathy Bhatt had for Dharavi’s citizens- _zero_. He needed to come at it from another angle then. He changed his tone and did his best not to sound like he was pleading, “Doesn’t Dharavi contribute a large portion to the economy?”

Bhatt only laughed as though Hide had been sent all the way from Japan merely to entertain him, “Entrepreneurships run and operated by _ghouls_.” He flipped the knife again and it landed solidly into the wood of his desk.

Hide glared back at his smile, “This is insane! You really think that this will solve the problem? Dharavi supports this city!” He knew he had already lost; he knew it, but he wouldn’t forgive himself for not trying.

“Dharavi is a mistake.” He replied simply.

Hide had only been in Mumbai three weeks, but he could piece together what that simple sentence meant to a man like Bhatt. Dharavi, like most slums, didn’t follow the same rules under which the city it had developed in. Their economy was based off of too many variables that could not be tracked or traced. Licenses and permits and taxes were all unreliable or missing entirely. It wasn’t about race or religion or even ghouls; it was about money. And, if his assumptions about Bhatt were true, he was working for the national government to effectively control its citizens and solve India’s underlying economic problems as a whole- _not_ rid India of ghouls.

This had been done before. The Armenians. The Jews. Others. Many others. Except this time, the people committing this genocide were not caring who or what was killed with them. They said they were killing ghouls, but hundreds of thousands of humans must have died already as well. Bhatt was using the CCG as a weapon to wipe out what was in the way of the nation’s profit- like peeling back at an infected wound and removing the skin entirely in hopes it would heal later.

 _Men are disgusting. Humans are endlessly selfish. Why? Why do men like him obtain so much power?_ Hide could feel his hatred build with every second he spent with Bhatt.

Hide narrowed his eyes and spoke carefully, “ . . . And this war against ghouls is just an excuse.”

“Finally.” Bhatt beamed, his snake eyes glowing like hot coals,  “You show some of that intelligence I’ve heard so much about from your father.”

Hide was left speechless. India had, months ago, declared a ‘ _War on Ghouls_ ’. The population of ghouls had gotten high and with the density of the population in some of the cities, it had nearly been overrun. His grandfather had offered the development of a CCG Branch in India three months ago. That’s when the tables turned and slowly, the ghoul population had gone back to being the minority. It was only now that Hide understood how that was happening.

“You were sent here to finish this with us and establish a new order with which to handle the ghoul problem. Our branch should be fully operational in two weeks’ time. How we fight our war is not your business. Nor is it your business what we do with our city. You are merely here to ensure that what we accomplish in the next month is successful.”

That was true, but even still, Hide was employed by the CCG. His responsibility first and foremost was to ensure the working relations between branches and to get the new branches operating appropriately and cooperatively under each government or culture particular to that country. Again, Hide was employed by the CCG, and, as part of his contract, there was a particular phrase that generally gave other higher-ranking officials power to do as they pleased with him: _other duties assigned as needed_.

_I have to find a way out of this._

“I won’t take part in it,” he said with finality.

Bhatt did not seem to care for Hide’s opinion and he excused it with a wave of his hand before pulling his knife from his desk once more, “You’ve already been assigned to a squad to evacuate remaining civilians from the slums.”

“That’s bullshit.” Hide responded without thinking. He’d needed to get better at fulfilling his required duties and cursing at a superior wasn’t going to do it.

Still, Bhatt’s eerie grin did not falter, “So it is, you’re really to remove the the ghouls remaining in Dharavi. You’re to prove your _loyalties_ to the cause- and to the CCG.”

Hide could hear his grandfather’s commands in Bhatt’s words, but he had no evidence that Bhatt was actually in touch with the old devil, “Tch- I don’t see why-”

“ _Ghoul sympathizer. Ghoul-lover._ You’ve been working here less than a month, and you have already earned quite the reputation. A member of the famed CCG on the side of ghouls? The Washuu name may mean quite a bit in Japan, but here, you’re disposable. Anything can happen on the battlefield.” Bhatt clarified his threat with the last sentence. The CCG was privately funded, and the Washuu still held reign over all branches, but Bhatt was right in relating that war was war. Hide could be killed by a ghoul, friendly fire, or Bhatt himself, and if it happened during a batter, there would be little to no way of the Washuu ever finding out.

Hide said nothing. He knew a threat when he heard one. Men like Bhatt did not operate on morals; they operated on money alone.

“We’ll see you at 17:00. You will have four squad members.”

“Sir,” Hide turned to leave, defeated.

“Oh, I have a message for you from you-know-who.”

Hide knew exactly who. _There_ was his evidence. Bhatt was in direct contact with Tsuneyoshi.

“ _This is your last chance._ ”

“Message received.” He did not look back at Bhatt and continued toward the door.

“You’re just a pawn in all of this.” Hide heard the knife land again in the wood of the desk.

_For now . . ._

<><><><><><><><><><> 

That had been only yesterday. Now, it was up to him and the four others to comb and sweep all of the slums before they would be bombed at midnight. The further in he traveled, the more alleys he checked, the countless doors he opened, he was beginning to lose touch with reality.

Everyone was dead, and without anyone to inhabit them, the buildings had died, too. Without anyone to use them, the sewing machines had died, the silverware had died, and the clothing, beds, appliances, food- everything else had died as well. Dharavi was inhabited by death alone. Hide would not forget this landscape.

It had been nearly thirty minutes in when he walked into a house to see handful of children trembling by the far wall, huddled together in fear. He turned off his mic and spoke to them slowly while holstering his pistols, “Hello. My name is Hide, and I want to help. Do any of you speak English?”

A bold girl who looked to be around ten or eleven stood up. The children behind her instantly latched onto her legs and arms, hiding behind her thin and small frame, “I speak a little English.” Her eyes went dark, “I kill you.”

“Stop.” Hide said gently, “I’m not here to kill ghouls. I won’t hurt you.”

There was a long silence. Some of the younger children whispered in Marathi- a language Hide had only learned to say ‘ _hello_ ’ in.

The eldest let her kakugan eyes recede and spoke nervously, “We cannot die.”

“I don’t want you to die. I know a way out, okay? You can all be safe.” Hide’s voice was honey and his expression was as gentle as the sun on your face.

The girl stepped towards him. What other choice did she have?

The terrain would work in favor of them. The slums were made of narrow alleyways, really only just wide enough in some places for children to pass through. They could make it. If they made it out the other side, where there was a section of the perimeter that was unmanned and free of guards, then they could be safe and escape the bomb that was coming. He told them the path to take and to avoid the two others that were dressed like him that they may encounter on the way. He encouraged the girl to bring any others and assured her that there were no guards stationed in the corner he’d asked them to pass through.

The children trusted him.They went through and found the others in hiding. They told them that they’ll be safe. There was a nice foreigner that was going to save them. They told them the best way to escape.

It was nearing 23:00 hours when he arrived at the corner where he’d sent the children. He stared at the ones he recognized now lying in the dirt and trash with empty, soulless eyes.

Dead.

“Washuu!” While it was difficult to see with only the light of a lantern beneath him, Hide was able to see the devil sitting on a hill with a CCG rifle less than fifty meters away. Bhatt.

Hide could only stare into the eyes of the dimly lit figure in horror. Before he could react to the noise behind him, he watched as the man raised his rifle and shot. Hide turned just in time to see a small boy fall. He couldn’t have been older than five.

“Stop! What the hell are you doing?! It’s impossible to tell how many are human or how many are ghouls!” He looked at his feet and around him, tears behind his eyes too frozen from shock to cry, “You killed all of them.”

No, Hide had. He had done this. He had told them all to come here to their death.

Hide clenched and unclenched his fist as he made his way towards the devil on the hill. He realized it now. He wasn’t any better, thinking that the ghoul children would only save their own kind. Children didn’t hate others until they were taught to do so. Around him were dead humans and dead ghouls; the ones he’d tried to save had all perished. How could he be so stupid? It went against what he knew to be true- what he _believed_ in. Here was proof of goodness both in humans and ghouls alike, and he’d destroyed it.

They had trusted him and he’d failed.

“Your grandfather told me not to trust you. There are several areas to escape this shithole, but only one area- the one Malik and Salin had been assigned to, was unattended this evening. You knew. And so did I. But, seeing as how this is your last chance, how about you and I make a deal? Prove your loyalty, and I’ll tell your dear old granddad that you can be trusted now.”

Hide stopped walking towards him now only a few meters away. He was speechless.

And then, Bhatt began to praise him, his ever-present grin only spreading further, “It’s genius, gathering them all together like that. They did all the work for you, too. We just wait, and -there it is- there’s one.”  Bhatt pulled the trigger and the barrel clicked. “I’m out. You have it?”

Hide watched the alleyway as a young girl in a cotton pink dress began to run.

“Washuu, _do you have it_?” Bhatt waited, watching the little girl run from the alleyway in the slum to escape outside the perimeter to freedom.

“Washuu?” She had nearly crossed.

_There has to be some other way._

Maybe he could run. He didn’t have to be a Washuu. He could go back to being Nagachika. He could just turn away from all of this and be done. He could just-

Let the world remain unchanged. Let this child be killed by someone else. Let these two be killed by some other means. Let someone take his place.

Let his grandfather win.

Let his brother win.

Let Japan be cleansed of ghouls.

Let the world be cleansed of ghouls.

Let Kaneki die.

Abandon him.

Abandon all of them- and hope, possibility, destiny.

He could just drop his gun now and never look back and try to forget everything. Everything he could one day change. Everything he could one day protect. Everything he could one day save.

Or he could keep going.

And kill them here, now, himself, before they were killed by Bhatt or the bomb or Matsuri or Tsuneyoshi.

A single shot. The girl fell just short of freedom. Hide didn’t need to check if she was alive. He had aimed for her head. His vision began to blur as his hands trembled.

Bhatt continued chatting, “The mission is to exterminate all of them. It doesn’t really matter. They’ll die here or -oh, another one.”

Two shots. A boy and a girl had come out running while holding hands. Now, they had died holding hands.

Hide carved the memory into the tissues of his brain.

Three. If killing these three meant that he could one day save three more lives then-

Hide carved the memory into the fabric of his skin.

Another child- four.

Hide carved the memory into the corners of his vision. He’d relive this moment now until eternity- the moment he’d decided he’d sacrifice his humanity if it meant accomplishing his goals.

And then silence. A long silence.

He couldn’t feel anything anymore. 

“I wonder how many of those were ghouls and how many were human? Too bad, you can’t even tell by the damn corpses.” Bhatt stood, satisfied with Hide’s murder. His grin had reached his ears, and Hide was certain he had been wrong. Bhatt wasn’t human at all, and he was something to be feared.

“They were all children.” Hide heard his own voice, but he had never intended to actually use it.

“Yes, well, children are just adults waiting to happen. It makes no difference. They’re dead now. The bomb will be deployed in half an hour. Let’s head back, Washuu.”

Hide holstered his guns and didn’t look back.

The youngest Washuu had gone to a different hotel room that night; the other had been shared with one of the other people in his team. He had to be alone for what he was about to do.

He learned today that he wasn’t the best at this game- at any of them. There were people that were smarter- people who could outsmart him- people who could see through everything. And some of those people were evil.

There were evil people in the world.

He hadn’t been ignorant of that really; he knew there were bad people or people really, that did bad things as a product of their experience but- today he’d learned that evil was a very real thing. Some people breathed it in and lived off it.

He spiraled ever downward.

And he cried. He cried because he was _just like them_ now. He cried because he was weak. He cried because even in his weakness, he still wielded so much power- enough to take life. He cried because those lives were gone. He cried because he’d failed in saving them. He cried because he could and they couldn’t anymore. He cried because he wanted to keep going. He cried because he had to keep going. He cried because continuing on might mean more of this. He cried because continuing on might mean one day preventing this. He cried because he couldn’t use Kaneki as an excuse anymore. He cried because he had entered into something he could never return from, and he couldn’t run from his decision now- or ever. He cried because he was born as a Washuu and he would live as a Washuu and he would die as a Washuu.

He cried because there was no other way.

<><><><><><><><> 

Kaneki set down the transcript on his desk. The words on the page didn’t feel real. They were so . . . lifeless- like the author purposefully wanted them to remain there on the page alone as only words with no reality or truth in them. Hide wouldn’t purposefully mislead children to pick them off one by one, but in the report, that was basically what it had said. He had devised a plan to round up survivors into one area for their efficient _disposal_.

Hide would _never_ do something like that.

He wouldn’t.

Kaneki had to believe he wouldn’t . . . even if the report had been written by Hide himself.

<><><><><>

The information was sent to Hirako as promised including a snapshot of the individual suspected to be Serpent. That morning, several blocks from :re, Nishio Nishiki, alias: Serpent, was captured after Hirako squad engaged in combat against Serpent and an Unknown ghoul in an Anpanman mask. The unidentified ghoul escaped and Serpent was transported to Cochlea.

 

Unknown: Hey, Anemone. I’m sorry. (●’o’●) I screwed up, but you should see the other guy! ¯\\_(˶′◡‵˶)_/¯ Anyway, we can text now! Please don’t use a lot of kanji, though, ok?

Sasaki: Please leave me alone.

Unknown **:** Grouchy much? I tried, at least! See you on New Year’s! (◠‿◠✿)

 

Sasaki rolled over on his bed to see the light of morning creeping through his curtains. Peace was never coming. There was no light at the end of the tunnel. All he could do was get stronger, so that next time he needed to protect others, it didn’t matter who knew. Next time he needed to protect the ones he cared for, it wouldn’t matter who from. Only through strength could he overcome the madness of the world he had found himself in.

Who would be hunted next?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: May contain tiny spoilers . . .  
> I want to thank all of you for reading and re-reading, leaving kudos, and (especially!) leaving comments.   
> Some have asked me about what direction this will go in and who it may or may not include. I want to say that I will be sticking to the draft I wrote up a year ago. I planned for 50 chapters and a third part, and I won't be changing anything that was pertinent to the plot or the development of characters. For example, in the original draft I wrote a year ago, I had Mutsuki get kidnapped, but he was abducted by someone other than Torso. Since what has happened has happened in the manga, I'm thinking about changing it to Torso, but it wouldn't affect the rest of the plot or development of characters. Or maybe I won't. It's just important that Mutsuki develops in the direction I was leading him towards.  
> I won't be changing how I portray characters or develop them in this AU. It also means I won't be including newly introduced characters (since I drafted this) such as V members and the oh-so-precious Furuta or the new Quinx.  
> Essentially, I'll be sticking to what I originally had planned in my first draft, so I hope you can appreciate this as a Ghoulie-flavored AU.  
> Thank you all so much.


	27. Upgrade - Jan 2

“Yours is at 1,124 now. Ah, so, you are now classified as a ghoul then, Shirazu.” Shiba didn’t appear to be all that surprised, and Sasaki wasn’t sure how to feel about that one way or  another. He wanted to find it suspicious, but little appeared to surprise Shiba in the first place, so Haise couldn’t be sure what it meant.

“Y-yeah, that’s what I was telling you . . .” Shirazu fumbled over his words, blushing and rubbing the back of his neck with his palm as if he’d done something wrong. He hadn’t, but since that morning, he’d been a bit more on edge than he had been the day before.

Kaneki blamed himself and it was appropriate to do so. Without thinking, Haise scratched at his left wrist.

“Sasaki?” Shiba prepared a syringe for him to take a blood sample to get an accurate RC cell count.

They were all standing in Shiba’s office which was actually a rather large room, but it was so filled with tables and lab and medical equipment that it appeared to be cramped and small. Haise had once felt comfortable here. He’d never _completely_ trusted Shiba, but he had once trusted him so far as to appreciate his assistance and hear his judgement on the development of the Quinx. Since he had regained his memories, however, the same could not be said; Shiba was a tool of the CCG no matter how much he clothed and decorated himself in the excuse that it was all for science. Kaneki counted on Shiba’s intelligence and ego; the doctor knew he was a tool of the CCG, so Kaneki would have to see how far he could use that to keep secrets from them.

Kaneki’s voice came out flat and dismissive, “I’m fine, thanks.”

Shiba would have raised an eyebrow had he had one, but instead, the muscles in his face moved to demonstrate his curiosity, “You haven’t had a check-up since you were first sent to Cochlea after regaining your memories.”

“I want to . . . I’d rather check myself into research, actually.”

“What’s this?” Shiba set down the syringe on a silver medical tray, before seating himself in the swivel chair at his desk.

Kaneki turned to his subordinate and took an uncompromising tone, “Shirazu, go wait outside.”

Shirazu straightened suddenly in protest, “What? But Sassan, you-”

“Go wait outside,” Kaneki repeated, expression blank. Sasaki knew he had done too much in betrayal of Shirazu’s trust, but, with Shirazu, Sasaki seemed to have an endless number of second chances. Shirazu had trusted Sasaki to know that he’d become a half-ghoul now. He needed Shirazu to trust him in this moment, too. If he were keeping more secrets from him, it was only out of his desire to protect him.

The Quinx Squad Leader frowned and did nothing to hide his disappointment. “Fine.” Sasaki could always count on Shirazu to tell him exactly what he was thinking without using words.

“It’s for your safety.” He hadn’t needed to say it, but it slipped. He instantly regretted it. Shirazu’s response was only to wave a hand as he left without turning back to face him. It was clear that Shirazu had felt his trust had been betrayed yet again, and nothing could be done about that. He’d gone to Sasaki when he had no one else to turn to, because he knew he could trust him. It was clearly not reciprocated. Gently, Shirazu closed the door behind him and walked down the hall to leave them alone.

“And why the research department?” Shiba’s voice turned Sasaki’s eyes away from the door and back to the doctor.

Sasaki cracked his knuckles. His attention had been effectively pulled away from his newly transformed subordinate, and he turned his body towards Shiba to study him curious if he’d actually see some kind of reaction, “Dr. Chigyou.”

Mild surprise. Or interest. It was hard to tell, either way. Perhaps both.

“Explain.”

Now that they were alone, Sasaki sat down. Shiba’s muscles on his forehead, where his eyebrows should have been, shifted up in curiosity as to why the conversation couldn’t continue with the Quinx Squad member present. Sasaki had kept secrets before, but since he’d regained his memories, what secrets needed to be kept? Haise met Shiba’s narrowed eyes that were hidden behind glass and his voice dropped in volume and tone, “Has a quinque ever been harvested from a living ghoul?”

The doctor smiled before answering, and Haise immediately wondered if he was simply a poor liar or if he actually held no qualms in regard to being candid with a half-ghoul, “Not a quinque, no. Auto-equipping quinque, yes. But, those are only created from ghouls who have developed kakuja.”

The only auto-equipping quinque he knew of was Arata. Shinohara had worn it and so had Amon. So, that meant that the ghoul it had come from, Arata, was _alive_? Possibly?

“Have _you_ tried developing a quinque from a living ghoul?”

Shiba didn’t deny it.

“Has Chigyou?”

Shiba didn’t answer, but instead went on to ask, “Is this an invitation, First Class Sasaki? I’ll admit that I find the whole prospect rather tempting. Tell me, why won’t you let me check your RC Cell count?”

“I’d like to make a deal with you.” It was answer enough.

Shiba smiled, “Ah, a deal that only you and I are involved in? One that will involve secrets? When it comes to science, I’m not so talented at keeping secrets.”

“ _Within the CCG._ ” Kaneki clarified carefully.

“So, you’re right. I cannot publish my work publicly. Anything accomplished here stays here within these walls so to speak. But you want to keep it between us only?”

“And Chigyou in research? I’ll let you attempt to  . . . make a quinque by harvesting my kakuhou.” Haise was mostly aware of the risk, but he needed to be stronger. Arima had taught him to use a weapon, and he needed one if he were to go on working with the CCG without suspicion. Of course, it was a risk, but the potential benefits outweighed the potential cost.

“And I’m to keep your cell count a secret?” Shiba removed his glasses and began to clean the lenses with a microfiber cloth on his desk.

“That and . . . why.” Sasaki hoped he was trusting the right people with this. He was gambling on their love of science over anything else- even their lives. While Shiba and Chigyou showed their passions in rather different ways, their shared interests were evident.

“You’ve developed a kakuja, haven’t you?” It wasn’t even a question that needed answering, really. If Kaneki Ken had one, then so would Sasaki Haise.

Sasaki said nothing.

The doctor said it aloud anyway, “Like Kaneki Ken? Well, I would certainly enjoy this opportunity. I’m not sure how successful I’ll be, however. I can’t promise it won’t kill you. I wouldn’t normally take this risk, but something tells me you’d find a way even if I refused.”

The half-ghoul swallowed, “You cut them out, right? The kakuhou?” He wasn’t sure how it would work, but if it involved him being damaged in some way, he should be okay if the RC Cell count in his blood alone- not even what could be produced from his kakuhou- could help him regenerate and heal.

“It’s a bit more complicated than that. Also, Dr. Chigyou would be operating on you; I may assist.”

“I’ll grow it back,” he tried to say with confidence.

A sly grin spread on Shiba’s face, one that Sasaki had not seen previously and one that made him begin to regret his decision in trusting the man, “Will you now?”

“If that’s what it takes, then I will survive it.” Kaneki was practiced in the art of lying, even when he really had no clue either way.

“Why the sudden interest?”

Kaneki’’s gray eyes fell elsewhere in the room, seeking an empty space but not finding one, “I won’t use someone else’s . . .”

Shiba actually chuckled, “Ah, say no more. Since I met that screaming child in Cochlea nearly three years ago . . . you have always been so sentimental.”

Kaneki hadn’t expected that response at all. He had been wrong in not getting to know the doctor better; he’d never expected him to become such an asset later. It hadn’t been wise on Sasaki’s part to hold him at an arm’s length, but, then again, Sasaki, in the past, had always been more focused on professional relationships. “There was something else.”

“Yes?”

Kaneki met his eyes again, “Doumeki.”

“Oh, him? He was recently sent from Cochlea to research.” Shiba clearly didn’t appear happy about the move. The muscles in his forehead went flat and he actually sighed at the end of his statement.

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” Haise observed him carefully as he spoke, “I want to _meet_ with him.”

Shiba was smiling gently once more- no hint of mischief, but an overwhelming amount of intellect and foresight, “I’ll see what I can do, but he is slippery, that one.” He turned in his chair to check a chart on his desk and adjust his glasses, “One of the Washuu is protecting him.”

“Which one?” Kaneki mentally winced. Had his eagerness been too obvious?

“I’m not sure. But only a Washuu could move him about as he has been as of late.” He set down the chart and turned back to Sasaki, “You don’t actually want to _meet_ with him, do you?”

Kaneki kept his face blank. “Perhaps not.” It was the same as admitting that he planned to murder him.

“Ah, this dark side must be the Kaneki Ken in you- rather haunting but quite fascinating.” Shiba appeared only amused.

Kaneki tried to ignore his amusement as well as his comment altogether and asked, “So, do we have a deal?”

“You become my test subject, and I keep your secrets.”

“Yes, and you get me in a room with Doumeki.”

“That’s fine. Not to worry, Sasaki, you’re in good hands. I have no intention of stopping you. Now, your cell count . . .” Shiba reached for the shirt cuff of Sasaki’s left arm, but Sasaki pulled away suddenly and wordlessly offered his right instead. If Shiba noticed the near flinch in Sasaki’s action, he didn’t show it as he unbuttoned the right cuff and moved up the sleeve to dab at his forearm with an alcohol swab. When Shiba stood up, Sasaki carefully folded back his right sleeve for easier access.

Shiba leaned over and took Haise’s wrist to twist his arm out. The needle used to withdraw the blood was of quinque steel, of course, and it slid easily into Haise’s skin. Haise watched silently as the small syringe filled with blood. The doctor pulled the blood away, looked at in the light as if he’d see something new that could be seen with human eyes alone, and then dropped a few drops of blood on a small machine with a red, digital number.

Haise watched the number go up. He looked away and folded his sleeve back, the small puncture wound already healed. He buttoned the cuff of his right shirt sleeve. Finally, he looked up again. Haise watched the number continue to rise.

“My, my,” Shiba smiled.

Haise swallowed when the number stopped.

It read: 6,142.

“Just over twice as high? My, my, Sasaki, what has your diet consisted of recently?” Haise said nothing. It was an unnecessary question when the answer was staring at both of them in blaring red light.

“Well then, do I get to see this kakuja of yours?” Shiba cleaned the machine of blood and put the remaining blood from the syringe in a sealed vial. He wasn’t looking at Sasaki as he went about his work; it was clear that he wasn’t expecting much. They’d never discussed that as part of the deal.

“I do not have one to show you.” It was partly a lie- only partly. Kaneki had little idea of what was happening to his body though he wasn’t as ignorant as he had been years ago when he’d cannibalized.

“With a count this high, that’s rather hard to believe. These cells are going somewhere.” Shiba stored the vial away and disposed of the syringe.

“It’s what you’ll have to accept as the truth for now.” Kaneki suddenly felt tired. He didn’t like thinking of the past. He’d made so many mistakes and been so selfish. It wasn’t the same this time. He had a plan this time.

He wouldn’t fail this time.

“Fair enough.” Again, Shiba didn’t actually expect it anyway. He sat back down at his desk and labeled the vial with a sticker barcode, scanned it, and entered some information on the computer. “Now then, how about you come in again on Thursday- the seventh?”

“Five days from now? That’s fine.” Sasaki watched the screen flicker quickly from one window to the next- forms, charts, a calendar. “And Chigyou?”

“I’ll talk to him myself. I’ll inquire about Doumeki as well.”

Kaneki tried to relax. He needed to trust Shiba, because he had already given him this much, but it was difficult to let go of his apprehension. After a long pause, he offered quietly, “Thank you.”

The doctor clicked his mouse a few times, typed away at the keyboard, and then turned back to Sasaki, “While I cannot say I expected it, I can’t claim I was surprised at the news of Shirazu.”

Kaneki was happy to change the subject, “Did you hear what happened?”

“He was transferred to another wing of research. I’m guessing he was with Doumeki, then?” Behind frameless lenses, Shiba’s eyes watched Sasaki carefully.

Kaneki popped a single finger.

Shiba raised the muscles on the left side of his forehead curiously, “Don’t do anything reckless. Those kids need you, First Class Sasaki.”

Sasaki looked up, surprised, and attempted a smile, “Yes, I know.”

<><><><><><><><><><> 

They were all in the living room this time for their meeting. The TV was off and the game controllers were put away. Mutstuki sat in the chair opposite of Sasaki. Urie and Yonebashi sat on the couch facing the television. Ginshi was sitting in a dining room chair, but it had been turned to face the living room and Sasaki to show his engagement.

Sasaki began, “So, Suzuya’s squad was assigned to Owl, but we still have Nutcracker now- despite her rank going up. We don’t have any leads to go off of since we were unsuccessful in capturing her during the Auction.”

“You mean killing her?” Urie clarified.

Sasaki raised an eyebrow but went on, “Either way . . . we need new leads on Nutcracker. She’ll be twice as hard to track down now, because we have no auction to follow up on and she has gone silent. There haven’t been any cases with her MO.” His squad stared blankly back at him.  “Any ideas?”

Mutstuki was silent. Yonebashi looked at her hands. Ginshi gave him a somber expression.

Urie had plenty of ideas, but he wouldn’t share them with the others- much less Sasaki. Instead, he stood up and excused himself, “Well, if that’s it-”

“It’s not.” Sasaki stood up, appearing far taller than he really was in the rigidness of his posture and the silent demand of respect that his presence gave, “Sit down, Urie.”

Urie looked at him blankly but then sat down again knowing Shirazu would be breathing down his back in seconds if he waited a moment longer.

“For now, I think we should look into alternative methods of finding information. Urie, speak with our mutual acquaintance and see if they have heard anything.”

“Fine,” was his only response.

“I think we should start considering ghouls of a higher social status as having an affiliation with the auction and possibly Nutcracker. I’ll need a list of older, wealthier families in the area. I’ll leave that to you, Saiko.”

Saiko blinked. She was a gamer, not a computer hacker. It would mean she’d have to participate in old-fashioned research. How was this assigned to her?

Sasaki moved on, “There have also been incidents of disappearances across Tokyo. We are to investigate if there is a link between them and if there is any connection to a ghoul.”

“Why are we being given an abduction case?” Urie’s mouth nearly made it to a scowl before he remembered himself and drew a blank face once more.

“There have been supposedly sixteen abductions. The only thing linking the victims is that they all had lemons in their personal belongings where they were last sighted.” Each of their faces held varying degrees of confusion.

“Since you are so eager to get to work, you’re on the Nutcracker case, Urie. Work with Saiko to gather a lead of some sort. We need direction.”

Sasaki’s eyes found Mutsuki’s, “Mutsuki and Shrirazu, you’re working on the new case.” He shot his gaze to Shirazu, “Remember, the goal is to _determine whether or not a ghoul is involved_. You _should not_ be engaging in combat. It’s imperative that we determine whether a ghoul is involved before the case is completely ours. Currently, Tokyo MET is working with them as well.”

Mutstuki spoke first. “What about Torso? Or Scarecrow?”

“Scarecrow is unassigned. He is not too big of a concern, so I believe the CCG is hoping to pick him up during another operation. As for Torso, he has been assigned to Special Class Ui and his team.”

“I have a question.” All of them turned to look at Shirazu sitting in the dining room.

Sasaki braced himself, “Yes, Shirazu?”

“Did you know Serpent? In the past?” Shirazu knew exactly what he was doing, and so did Sasaki. Apparently, Sasaki would be forgiven for keeping secrets, but one too many meant his own secret would be revealed to Arima. Shirazu was kind, but it was his kindness that was putting Haise in danger.

All eyes were now on Haise. “Serpent?”

“Did you?” Shirazu asked again, quickly needing an answer as urgency added to his voice.

“No,” Sasaki said simply, the lie coming too easily, “Anything else?”

No one said anything, but Sasaki noticed that Urie was staring him down.

“Anything else, Urie?”

“No,” he answered, his voice on edge.

“You’re all dismissed.” He watched Shirazu head for the garage and Mutsuki and Saiko head upstairs. “Urie, stay behind.” The violet haired Quinx turned around to face him, and Sasaki handed him a silver attaché case, “This is yours now.” He handed over the case to Yukimura ⅓.

“What?” Urie knew exactly what it was.

“I won’t be using this quinque any longer. I will be training you to use Yukimura.” Sasaki was serious, but he was sure to show that this was an act of trust and faith towards Urie. He was extending the olive branch.

“Me?” Urie hadn’t expected to be handed a weapon that had been wielded previously by Arima Kishou, Hirako Take, and well- not those two. He should have seen it coming, though. Arima had previously recognized his talents, so it was only a matter of time.

Urie studied the case, but didn’t open it. He knew better than to do so unless he were fighting or training. When Haise spoke, to Urie, it may as well have been a disembodied voice, “It means you have to train under me- one-on-one and daily.”

Urie snapped back to reality to face his mentor, “ _Why?_ ”

“You must earn this. And its abilities go beyond what you have seen from me.” It was clearly more the first part than the second. “Are you ambidextrous like Mutsuki?”

“No.” Urie wasn’t even sure that was accurate. Hadn’t Mutsuki learned to fight like that from Special Class Suzuya?

“Well, you’re going to be learning dual-wielding, so be prepared for that.” Sasaki was confident that Urie would learn otherwise he wouldn’t have trusted him now.

“What's the catch?”

“Catch?” Sasaki should have expected this attitude, but he thought Urie would have just taken it and run.

“You’re giving me Yukimura. Special Class Arima used this.”

Haise blinked. Was he inferring he held some kind of sentimental value towards it? Haise shook his head, “You’re my responsibility, Urie. I want you to succeed; I don’t want to watch you fail. Work with me.”

Urie stared back for a long moment before finally responding, “Fine, whatever.”

<><><><><><><><><><><> 

“Hey, Mucchan,” Saiko whispered as she knocked on the door to Tooru’s room gently.

“You can come in Saiko-chan,” Mutsuki was busy at his desk looking at the information on the disappearances.

He and Saiko weren’t particularly close, but they weren’t strangers, either. Saiko was the kind of person who could charm anyone, given the time, and Tooru was the kind of person see through it. Saiko liked being around Tooru mostly because it put her at ease. In a way, they were both liars.

She knew Tooru’s secret, and Tooru knew that she did. Saiko assumed the others did as well, but never said anything. She hoped that if that weren’t the case, they’d keep silent out of respect to Tooru should it be revealed. Tooru also knew Saiko’s secret. It wasn’t a difficult one to discern; Saiko knew she wasn’t special in it, either. Her secret was only in that she often played pretend. She pretended to be less perceptive. She pretended to be clueless. She pretended to be interested in only her interests and nothing else. Since she’d been small, she’d only ever been honest with her brother.

The Quinx had changed her- her Maman, especially, but she still wasn’t as open and honest as she could be. She knew the squad needed her; she needed to be happy and optimistic and caring and silly and amusing and anything she needed to be to keep them just above water. Since she’d stopped gaming, her role had become more difficult to play, but she had gotten to know her, what she perceived as friends, even better.

She’d never had friends before, but now that she did, she very much wanted to share with them the same things she shared with her brother. Maman was the easiest to talk to with Tooru being the second. Urie was amusing, but also a little scary sometimes. Shirazu was, well, he was someone she hoped she’d always have in her life. He felt like he was the closest to what could be defined as a good person, and she admired that in him.

Saiko sat on the edge of Tooru’s bed as Tooru looked at his laptop screen with his eyes knit in concentration. When he finally finished what he had been reading, he closed the laptop, and turned in the chair to face her and give her his full attention. Saiko bit her bottom lip, “I think . . . Maman lied.”

Tooru blinked, apparently not expecting this topic of conversation at all, “I’m sure it is not the first time.”

“Why doesn’t he trust us?” A rhetorical question, really.

Mutsuki answered it with another question, his voice raising in pitch slightly towards the end, “The same reason we don’t trust him?”

“Because?” She honestly didn’t understand.

Tooru blinked, “He’s not the same?”

“It’s not that he’s a ghoul. That doesn’t matter to me- I-”

“But you’re here talking to me rather than speaking to him yourself.” Tooru pointed out quietly, knowing that doing so might only anger Saiko further, “You don’t trust the answer he’d give you.”

Saiko put her arms around herself and stared at the floor, “Is it my fault?”

Mutsuki moved to the bed to sit beside her, an apology on his lips he couldn’t let escape properly.

“I mean,” Saiko felt a headache coming on with a pain and tension around her eyes. She was going to start crying. “I mean, you’re right.” A few tears escaped, and Mutsuki put a hand on Saiko’s shoulder beside him. “He’s different. He’s still Maman, but he’s-he’s also someone else.”

“I understand,” Mutsuki said gently. They’d all seen it to some degree. It was impossible not to.

“It shouldn’t matter,” Saiko hiccupped and more tears fell. Mutsuki grabbed for the tissue box on the desk and offered it to her. She took it and blew her nose before continuing to speak, “I-I saw him. I saw him cry. I followed him.”

“What?”

“I followed him across town and he went to a playground and just cried. He couldn’t stop. He’s so lonely. Somehow, even with his memories back, he is just as lonely as he was before.”

Mutsuki knelt down in front of Saiko and smiled gently, “You really care about him, Saiko-chan.”

Saiko shook her head, “Of course I do.” She met Tooru's single eye again, “I want to see him as the same he was before, but sometimes-sometimes Maman feels like a different person, too.”

“You’re right, but-” Mutsuki stood up again and sat down in his desk chair, “-but the way he feels about us hasn’t changed, right?” Mutsuki thought on his own question a minute. His own logic was beginning to work on him as well; perhaps he needed this conversation as much as Saiko did.

Saiko smiled through her tears, and just as their eyes met, music could be heard from downstairs.

“♬♫♪ ~ Believe when I saaay that I want it thaaaaat way. But we are two worlds a-part. Can’t reach to youurr heart. ~ ♪♫♬”

Saiko and Tooru immediately began laughing. Even from upstairs, they could hear Sasaki singing along though, from what could be heard, he didn’t seem to know the lyrics well.

“Sasan, what are we listening to?” Shirazu protested the lovely nineties ballad with something near a whine.

They didn’t hear Sasaki’s response, but the singing had been enough to put Saiko at ease.

“Thank you, Mucchan,” Saiko hugged Tooru suddenly which made him blush a bit in response as he patted her back affectionately. She pulled away and dried her eyes.

“I didn’t know Maman was a Backstreet Boys fan!” With that, she made for the door to head downstairs and bask in the glow that was her Maman- a person who was both two people and one person at the same time.

<><><><><><><><><> 

Later that night, in his room, Urie stared into the silver attache case. It was _empty_.

No, there was a sticky note inside with feminine handwriting. He picked it up with a frown in his expression.

_Urie,_

_You must earn the use of Yukimura. Until you are willing to cooperate with myself and your team- until you learn to trust us- you do not deserve to wield this quinque._

_I’ll be waiting for you at 07:00 in the practice room. Make your choice._

_Sincerely,_

_Sasaki Haise_

Urie crumpled up the piece of paper and threw it into the wastebasket by his desk.

_Damn him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry you all have to wait so long. Thank you for your patience. Thank you all so much for the feedback and comments, too.
> 
> "But we are two worlds apart  
> Can't reach to your heart  
> When you say  
> That I want it that way"
> 
> I don't know where the Mutsuki and Saiko scene came from. I seriously like just wrote it in the last 20 minutes. I won't have regrets now, though. Just assume Kaneki doesn't know half of what he is singing- just that it reminds him of a time long ago . . . . T-T


	28. Behind- Jan 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk here's some shit

That morning, Urie had met Sasaki in the training room of the chateau. Urie observed him waiting with Tsunagi in hand, a flashy smile on his face that only pissed Urie off more. Even more upsetting was that Sasaki likely knew his little grin's effect on him but was wearing it anyway. His pathetic attempts at playing teacher were just that, pathetic, and annoying to boot. Urie realized his blunder to think that last night had marked any sort of turning point in which his direct boss thought of him as anything other than a kid. He was tired of playing games and working so hard to appease Sasaki which was why he was communicating through other channels now in attempts to move up through the ranks of the CCG. Sasaki would never see him as anything more than a child no matter how strong he'd proved himself to be.

“Good morning, Urie.” Sasaki stayed where he was. His eyes found the clock on the wall and then fell back to Urie.

_ Of course I'm on time. _

“I asked if there was a catch,” Urie slid into a battle stance, ready and waiting on the opposite side of the room. He was half-expecting the special class investigator to just begin attacking him at any minute to prove some kind of ludicrous point- to prove that Urie didn’t deserve the quinque as he had worded it. He'd prove him wrong. He hadn't realized how badly he'd wanted Yukimura until Sasaki had dangled it in front of his face tauntingly like human flesh for a starved ghoul.

He watched Sasaki’s smile soften, still present but now bordering some kind of adoration more so than joy. Urie rolled his eyes.

_ The bastard’s enjoying this. _

“You must have gotten my note then,” Sasaki remarked only loud enough to be heard. He began making his way across the large training room, a straight line directly to Urie. “You had to take it out to use right away, didn't you?”

What a stupid question. Urie's tone portrayed his thinly veiled annoyance. He felt no need to hide anything from the ghoul; he wasn't ignorant to the fact that they'd spent enough time together that Sasaki could read his temperament rather well. He was at least observant even if he pretended not to be. “Right, because no soldier ever tried out his weapon before taking it-”

“Soldier?” Sasaki wasn’t smiling anymore, and his tone and expression appeared completely blase. Only about a meter away now, with Tsunagi still in hand, he regarded Urie with an air of disapproval. “You think you’re a soldier, Urie?”

“Y-”

“It was a rhetorical question," he interrupted again.

_ Fuck this. _

Urie came here for Yukimura. This conversation had nothing to do with teamwork or camaraderie or whatever bullshit the ghoul thought he was lacking in. His hands became fists at his sides.

“You’re an officer,” Haise corrected him, eyes narrowing only slightly to appear more stern, not that it affected Urie in any way. Sure, Sasaki was powerful, but he knew the ghoul well enough to know that he would never actually hurt him. He was too soft; he’d always be too soft. He’d never surpass Arima- not like that.

Haise continued, “An officer upholds the law. A soldier fights wars. You’re not ready to go to war, Urie. You can’t even uphold the status quo.”

_ What the hell? _

"I thought we were here to train- not argue pedantics.” Urie didn't know what Sasaki was attempting to say, and he didn't care, especially if it had something to do with some kind of lesson he felt Urie needed to learn or some sort of knowledge he felt he had to bestow upon him. When would Sasaki realize that Urie would never oblige such nonsense from him?

“It’s more than that, Urie," he responded more quietly, his passion suddenly gone, softened, likely, by the renewed understanding that even now, Urie was still not here to listen to anything Sasaki had decided he needed to hear.

“Let’s just get this over with.”

Sasaki sighed, “Do you want Yukimura or not?”

Urie inhaled sharply and released his breath slowly, his silence the obvious answer.

Sasaki flipped the hilt of Tsunagi in his hand and held out the quinque for Urie to take it.

“You want me to train using a real quinque?” Urie took it anyway, the sword easy and familiar in his grip.

“We will train together an hour before the others come down. From there, you will participate in practice with the others when they come down at eight."

“Tch.”

Despite Urie's attitude, Sasaki never missed a beat, “You will participate as an equal. You will follow Shirazu’s direction. You will show you can fight cooperatively with the others as a teammate and demonstrate integrity. You have made progress, I’ll give you that, which is why I’m offering this opportunity, but it is not enough.”

“I’m leaving," Urie turned to follow through on his threat. He had worked as a part of the team when they'd captured Samurai. He'd been training with Saiko. What else had he needed to prove?

“Then you surrender this opportunity to someone else." Sasaki paused. Urie let his mind fill in the blanks, but of course, being as irritating as he was, Sasaki went on to spell it out for him, "Shirazu could take a new quinque. He has taken to his role as a leader quite well, anyway, hasn’t he?"

Urie turned around, frowning and ready to snap, but when he saw Sasaki's expression, careful yet stern, rather than disappointed and mocking, he stepped forward once more.

“Thank you for making the right choice,” Sasaki smiled.

_ Whatever. _

“Oh, and one more thing. I’ll decide when you’ve demonstrated the necessary skills to deserve Yukimura unless . . .” Haise paused, and Urie could tell he was unsure of whether the ‘unless’ should even be an option.

_ Get on with it. _

“Unless you can land a hit on me.”

_ That’s it? _

“It’s not as if you can actually hit me,” Sasaki's smile remained while Urie debated which would be the best way to remove it.

The Quinx tried not to growl in response. Sasaki was being especially infuriating today. Instead of answering verbally, Urie lunged suddenly in his direction and their training session began.

Sasaki never pulled out a weapon. Sasaki never even used his kagune. Urie never hit him.  
  


<><><><><><><><><><>

 

“Tsu-Tsukiyama-san?” Haise set down his book immediately. He’d been reading in the park near headquarters after work. He'd needed time to sit and think about nothing. He'd needed time to digress into some other world that was not his own. He'd needed time to focus on the problems posed by humans versus other humans rather than the ever-present conflict in his daily life and mind of humans versus ghouls. His literature was usually dense and complicated, but today, he'd picked up something simple and lighthearted that had been popular a few years prior. One of the characters made him laugh, at least. Not literally, which, too bad for that, but inside, he felt some kind of mirth, and that was genuinely welcomed, especially considering the clouds currently covering his sun.

“Kaneki-kun, I wanted to see you," the ghoul sat down beside him and Kaneki scooted over slightly on the bench to create some amount of distance and allow enough room for Tsukiyama to get comfortable. He hadn't been expecting this, but now that he was looking at Tsukiyama's smile, his cheeks now nowhere near as sunken in, his eyes shining and provocative in a way only he could manage without effort or intent, and his hair framing his face like silk rather than straw, he felt relieved to see him in overall better condition. He was not what he once was, but he was getting there, and the efforts that had likely gone into his transformation did not go unnoticed by Haise. Eyes wandering over the rest of him, he reminded himself that it would take time to regain the weight, obviously. Still, not only was he no longer bedridden, Tsukiyama was walking without much trouble without aid of a chair or cane. For a human, it would have been a miracle, but of course, it went without reminding, Tsukiyama was a ghoul.

“You’re looking much better,” Haise smiled, allowing at least a brief moment of relief before the concern began to seep into the cracks and crevices of his thoughts. Tsukiyama shouldn't be there, in the park, in the public park--not with him. It was too much of a risk.

“Thank you.” Tsukiyama stared shamelessly, his eyes never leaving Kaneki.

Haise realized the ghoul was glowing in the late afternoon sun as if taking in vitamins from being in his presence alone. Perhaps the sun was good for him; he'd been bed-ridden so long.

“Tsukiyama-san?” Haise tried to snap him from his thoughts, pulling Tsukiyama and his thoughts back to the bench in the park from wherever they had traveled. Now was not the time to daydream. Too much was happening. Too much had been set in motion. He had to keep Tsukiyama separate from that, no matter how much he wanted to be a part of it.

“I hadn’t seen you in some time and was feeling well enough to go out today. I’m relieved that I was able to meet you," Tsukiyama became animated once more, responding in full to what Haise hadn't even asked. His voice no longer held the hard edge of illness. His words came through without static or hoarse restraint. It brought another wave of relief, but it also left Kaneki with a growing sense of fear. Tsukiyama would take too much, or give too much, or be involved in any way just too much.

“It’s been a couple weeks," Haise nodded, realizing that the recovery now was remarkable considering he'd thought it had been months by this point. So much had happened in such a small amount of time. He'd been wrong to not check on Tsukiyama, but, then again, it wasn't behavior that was outside the norm for Kaneki, so he was sure Tsukiyama was not bothered by it.

Shuu wasted no time, his red eyes alight with curiosity and a fearless, unyielding intent that Haise could not place but trusted, at least now, that it was no longer malicious like it had once been, “You haven’t seen the others, have you?"

When Haise didn't respond, Tsukiyama seemed to understand why because he added specifics, "I think Banjou is in some other district now, but I heard Little Hinami joined Aogiri?”

“Yes,” he nodded slowly, his book closed and tucked into a large pocket in the inside of his coat that he used pretty much only for such a purpose.

Shuu’s expression softened, “Why ever would she?”

Kaneki was quiet for a long time. “I don’t know.” And, he honestly had no idea how to respond otherwise. He was grateful, of course, that she wasn’t alone, but Aogiri? He had already gone through a list of reasons as to why she may have avoided staying with Touka, but he didn't have a single reason on his list of possibilities as to why she'd picked Aogiri over literally anyone else.  It likely depended on information he didn't know. No, he was certain that's what it had to be. Maybe she knew someone who worked with them. Maybe she felt like there was someone there she could trust. But who? He had no clue.

“Shouldn’t we get her back?” Tsukiyama questioned as he tilted his head thoughtfully, turning his back to the sun and facing Kaneki more directly.

His concern was actually pretty surprising, but Sasaki wouldn’t be moved, “She chose to go there willingly.” He knew that Tsukiyama cared for her, but it had been years. Presently, at least when he'd last seen her, she hadn't appeared to be in any sort of danger, so there was no reason that Kaneki should risk yet another operation on top of what he'd already been shouldering. But, he couldn't explain that to Tsukiyama; he knew better than to admit that he was doing anything dangerous outside of what the ghoul beside him already knew. Upon their reunion, the cerulean haired ghoul had made it quite clear what role he desired to fill in Kaneki's life, and Kaneki had no need in a knight presently, especially if he was supposed to be fulfilling such a role himself.

“She’s still a child. We should-”

“Nothing." Kaneki heard his own voice, sharp and uncompromising. How easily he fell back into old habits when speaking to Tsukiyama was shocking. "There’s nothing we can do for now." His eyes caught scarlet ones and held them sternly, a threat in them that was there only for Tsukiyama's benefit, "Tsukiyama-san, you shouldn’t even be seen with me- especially not out in the open like this. I might be being followed. I’m the reason Nishio was captured.”

Shuu didn't even dare to blink with Kaneki's full attention on him and him alone. “If you have enemies, I will cut them down.”

Kaneki looked away, shaking his head, “Not in that condition you won’t.” That was the wrong thing to say. Shit. He crossed his arms stubbornly, trying not to be drawn in by the expression in Shuu's eyes, “What I mean is, I have enemies with enough power to take you and your whole family down. You shouldn't be taking risks like this.” Had that been vague enough? Had he said too much?

Instead of being hurt, the ghoul returned Kaneki's subtle threat with fierce candor, “It frightens you?" He frowned, "It shouldn’t. You’re Kaneki Ken. You-"

“Yes," he waited until he was sure he had interrupted Tsukiyama to the point of silence. When the ghoul closed his mouth, Kaneki went on, "it does. I’m not invincible and neither are you. Don’t you understand?”

How else was it different from back then?

Oh, he cared.

“You want me to live," Tsukiyama's eyes grew wide and lips grew thin as he stretched them into a smile that could swallow the moon.

Haise sighed, thinking a moment on what the right thing to say was before he snapped and regressed back into speech that was far too biting for what and who they were now, “I might need you one day, Tsukiyama-san. You can be there for me when the time comes.”

“Always,” the ghoul promised breathlessly.

Kaneki didn't look at him. He was always so intense- all the time. Even if Kaneki felt happy that he was recovering so well, it was exhausting.

Tsukyiama stood, clearly sensing that Kaneki had reached his limit, “You should be able to live more freely, Kaneki-kun. The CCG is a prison you have shackled yourself to with that second family of yours.”

Kaneki’s heart sank. No, maybe Tsukiyama Shuu hadn’t changed so much at all.

“I’m fine," he replied simply, despite it being a blatant lie. He didn't want to get into anything with him  I can leave anytime I like. Just, continue to get well.”

Shuu was not convinced. "Until next time," Shuu closed his eyes, bowing his head slightly before walking away. It was a far less dramatic gesture than Kaneki was expecting despite it being entirely unnecessary anyway. When would Tsukiyama see him for what he was? He was not deserving of such regard and respect.

As Tsukiyama walked away, his thoughts settled on the Kaneki's lie. It was clear to him back then as it was clear to him now. Kaneki was by no means _fine_ , and Kaneki was certain that it was thanks to his little CCG family that he was suffering alone, shouldering something that Tsukiyama couldn't name but could certainly see. The easiest way to solve such issues was to cut him off from the CCG, and currently, they were the only people that were tying him to it, weren't they?

 

<><><><><><><><>

 

"Honestly, I don't understand why so many of these shops are basement level," Saiko picked up a fleshlight from the wall and inspected it curiously by inserting a finger with a grin. Aside from the flesh colored lips on one end, the device looked altogether inconspicuous with a black plastic frame that gave it the appearance of an ordinary flashlight. "Hmm?" Upon pressing a button on the end, the device began to move around her finger, "Oh, I get it." She, very poorly, stifled her own giggles.

" _ Put that down. _ " Urie scolded her in a harsh whisper, blushing slightly from the girl's complete lack of modesty and shame while she handled the toy on her finger all the while snickering as she kept pressing the button and the device hummed in different patterns.

Before Saiko could snap a comeback as the grin spread on her face from his poorly hidden embarrassment, Urie snipped again, " _ Don't draw attention to us _ ; we're technically not even of age to be here."

Saiko turned the device off and placed it back on the wall with a shrug, "We can just flash our IDs, and-"

Urie rolled his eyes, "The point is that we're _ undercover _ ."

"Kukuri-kun, I have our fake IDs from the reconnaissance for the auction," Saiko smirked, her expression ever cocky in the face of her beloved teammate. Technically, she carried her own with her anyway, just in case she needed . . . things, but she had actually swiped her teammates' cards recently as a sort of keepsake. Truthfully, she just thought they were cute, and if they were safe with anyone, it would be her, the Chateau's resident hoarder.

Instead of responding verbally, Urie stared at her a moment, his expression returning to a neutral blank that hid his confusion at just how Yonebayashi actually prepared for something that he hadn't. 

She saw right through it and her grin only grew, "Ye of little faith." She produced his card from a card case in her pocket and, by holding it from the bottom corners, danced it in front of her nose. No, he hadn’t been there for the reconnaissance mission, but that hadn’t been part of the original plan. Sasaki had made one for him prior to Urie’s outburst and resulting in temporary suspension from the mission.

"Give me that," he grabbed it, annoyed. He was listed as a female, but what did it matter? No one today had asked them anything thus far, and this was already the fourth shop they had investigated.

"You're welcome, Kupurri," Saiko winked, walking ahead of him to investigate more toys.

"Would you stop?" he followed after her, his eyes darting from her to the other people in the shop, to the attendant at the register, and then back to her.

"Oh, have you finally decided to admit that this is your idea of a hot date?" Saiko wiggled her eyebrows.

"What?"

Curious about another toy, this one in the shape of the letter “U”, she picked up the object and started inspecting it. "You expect me to believe this is work related?" She held the “U” shaped vibrator in front of her face as though it were an imitation smile.

"Put that _down_ ," Urie growled.

Instead, she flipped the toy upside down to imitate a frown.

The Quinx inhaled and slowly exhaled, patience building as his body deflated. If anything, at least she was making them look less suspicious by looking at the merchandise.

Saiko gave up when she realized she was no longer going to get a rise out of him. After putting it back, she turned to face him curiously, seemingly ready to have some semblance of a work-related conversation, "Maman told us to investigate rich people."

"That's tedious," Urie responded mechanically.

She smiled back, nudging his side with her elbow, "You mean booooring."

Urie moved away and pushed her arm aside in one fluid motion, "But if we're looking for Nutcracker, then--"

Saiko was now slipping her fingers through holes located in the back of a pair of red, lacy underwear, "Ah, the way she dressed?"

"Yeah." Urie gave up on telling her to behave.

"It seems like a stretch, honestly." As if for emphasis, she stretched the lace panties horizontally like she was testing the width of the hips. 

"You have anything better?" Urie asked impatiently.

"That wasn't a complaint; I'm having fun~!" She put the underwear back and spun slightly to face him with a radiance that stole the attention of the others in store temporarily. She glowed when she smiled like that. Urie did his best not to notice and failed.

Urie decided to look anywhere else but Saiko and settled for the clock on the far wall opposite the register. It was already past twelve. "It's nearly time."

"Oh?"

 

<><><><><><><><><><>

 

"Yonebayashi, right?" In a Cafe Gusto booth, Urie and Saiko sat opposite of Hori Chie.

"Are you my kindred spirit?" Saiko grinned, more intrigued in the fact that Urie appeared to have an equally short friend than anything else.  

"If you're comparing our height, you still have time at least; I have years on you,” Hori smiled in the way she typically did when with him, with no warmth at all despite the friendly tone her voice held. Apparently, she was taken by Saiko in a way Urie had never seen before? She’d already snapped three pictures of her, or rather, of the two of them waiting for her in the booth. He wanted to say he was surprised, but it was Saiko they were talking about, and her charm was perhaps one of her most effective talents in the field, not that he could explain why.

"Saiko-chan is impressed.”

No one said anything when she didn’t clarify exactly what she was impressed with. The photographer responded only by snapping another picture, grinning, "Saiko-chan is pretty cute."

"You should see Saiko-chan's epic poses. There are six." To Urie’s relief, she didn’t stand up and demonstrate one right in that moment, though she did shift in her hair as if she were contemplating it. 

"Can we get to the point already?" Urie growled for at least the hundredth time that day despite it being only one in the afternoon. 

Chie ignored him, "How do you work with this guy?"

"He works for  _ me _ ,” Saiko grinned, propping her elbows on the table and resting her chin in the fold of her interlaced fingers, “annnnd he pays for lunch," 

Chie shrugged, flipping over the menu to see the extensive dessert and drink list. "I get it."

"What can you tell me?" Urie’s patience had depleted over the last few hours of reconnaissance, if that’s what it could be called, with Yonebayashi. He’d spent too many hours with her period. It was messing with his head and clouding his judgment; he needed to solve this case and bag Nutcracker already. He had people to impress and promotions to earn.

"Other than the fact that you’re an incredibly cheap date?” She eyed the menu with a blank expression and her smile had dissipated. Not a single thing on the menu was more than a thousand yen-- not even the wine, which just made everything else more questionable. 

“I can tell you that I'm busy at the moment, but if you want my advice, I would find the sex clubs more interesting to photograph than rich people. There are few that are unpredictable.”

"Sex club?" he didn’t elaborate hoping that Hori would instead.

"It's mutual, and money isn't typically involved. Basically, stay away from salons, kyabakuras, and massage parlors. What you're looking for wouldn't be involved in any of that shady business."

"Sex clubs aren't shady?" He asked, his suspicion not evident in his face but clear in his words.

Chie snapped a picture again. "Do you want my advice or not?"

Saiko had been posing beside him, two “v”s made with each of her hands pointed toward her cheeks.

He sighed. "Yes."

"Study hanakotoba in Shinjuku." She hit the green buzzer at the end of the table for the waitress. "I'm ordering three cheesecakes; they're so small here."

Urie finally frowned, a small one but a frown nonetheless, but he made no protest as the waitress arrived and started taking Chie’s extensive order. He already had a place and a clue, and he'd barely paid anything this time; it was almost as if Chie wanted to help him this time. No, that couldn't be it; maybe she was doing it because of Sasaki? Whatever it was, he wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. They'd go to Shinjuku tomorrow; it gave them the day to narrow the list of clubs down to whatever had some kind of flower meaning until then.

“So four cheesecakes and eight apple pies?” the waitress asked nervously?

“Yes!” Saiko confirmed with a grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all deserve more than I can give; I'm sorry.  
> Fiiiiiightiiiiiing~~~

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you have time, please take a moment to tell me what you think in a comment! I'm always open to hearing anything I could work on! Also, if you have any theories you'd like to share or questions, please don't hesitate to [drop something in my ask box on tumblr!](http://fineinthemorning.tumblr.com/)  
> Thanks again!


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